The Square Root of Time
by xerus
Summary: It's summer and we all need a trashy story to read. Okay, okay, it's summer in Australia. Does that still count?
1. Default Chapter

The Square Root of Time.  
  
This is going to be a light weight, summer novella. I have no clue how long it's going to be, maybe as long as it takes to get some OC re-runs on tv. This will be slightly AU. It takes place just after the season finale. Theresa is still pregnant, but the baby is definitely Eddie's. Ryan didn't go back to Chino with her. Julie and Caleb are married and they're living beside the Cohens.  
  
All OC characters are the creation of Josh Schwartz. I'm only playing with them for a few months and I promise I will return them in time for season two.  
  
The Square Root of Time.  
  
Chapter One.  
  
What brought Sandy Cohen back to reality was the way the pool house door closed so quietly. It was almost inaudible. He sat down hard on the bed and looked at his hand. The knuckles on his right hand were red and starting to swell.  
  
"Dad?"  
  
Sandy looked up at his son.  
  
"What did I do?" He whispered hoarsely.  
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Ryan walked. He willed his legs to move. He didn't bring his hand up to touch the side of his face. He knew what it looked like. It wasn't the first time he'd had this experience. This was the payback for hope. He had spent most of the last year waiting for something like this to happen. He had started to believe the lies he'd been fed; how he was part of the family now, that he was safe now, he had a future now...  
  
He had only himself now.  
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
"I have to find him..."  
  
Sandy stood up, searching his pockets for his car keys. Seth stood with him.  
  
"Dad... He'll come back... Give him a little time... I need a little time...."  
  
Sandy looked at Seth. His eyes were red. He was shaky and he'd been crying.  
  
"Seth...?"  
  
Seth drew an uneven breath.  
  
"I don't know how things got so fucked up... Ryan's.... Ryan's been sleeping with...." Seth couldn't finish the thought. "How could he do this to me? I hit him... He tried to tell me he didn't know what I was talking about... I told him if he was going to screw my girlfriend then he should have the guts to tell me the truth when I call him on it. I trusted him... He knew what Summer meant to me..."  
  
The tears started to flow again. Seth made no effort to wipe them away.  
  
Sandy reached for Seth and held him close. His mind replayed the scene he had walked in on. He had opened the door of the pool house just as Seth lunged at Ryan. He watched as Ryan put his hands up. In that moment Sandy Cohen had forgotten that he had two sons. He had one son and the juvenile delinquent he brought into his house. He pulled Ryan away from Seth screaming at him never to touch his son again. His fist connected with the side of Ryan's face. The boy's eye and cheek began to discolour immediately. The three of them stood there in horrified silence.  
  
Sandy watched as Ryan's soul shattered.  
  
What brought Sandy Cohen back to reality was the way the pool house door closed so quietly. It was almost inaudible. He sat down hard on the bed and looked at his hand. The knuckles on his right hand were red and starting to swell.  
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Ryan folded the cash he had taken from the ATM and stuffed his wallet back in his jeans. He studied his receipt before tearing it up. After withdrawing $300 he still had $2500 and change. He had been careful with the money he'd earned working at the Crab Shack. Sandy and Kirsten wanted him to quit during the school year, but in the end they had allowed him to work Friday nights and Saturday afternoons provided he kept his grades up. He had held up his end of the bargain. None of that mattered now. He walked back to the Greyhound terminal and bought a ticket for the next bus leaving the station.  
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Seth locked himself in his room, leaving Sandy alone with his fractured thoughts. The persistent throbbing in his hand provided the background for the images of him striking Ryan. Rewind. Replay. Sandy had never hit anyone before. As a kid he never even hit one of his siblings. Now, as a man in his early 40's he hit a kid. His kid. The kid he made a commitment to. The kid he'd promised that everything would be better; he was part of the family now, he was safe now, he had a future now. One moment of uncontrolled anger threatened to destroy all they had worked so hard to build over the last year. Sandy took out his cell phone and dialed, praying he'd find the right words.  
  
The vibration in his pocket startled Ryan. He didn't realize that he still had the cell phone the Cohens gave him. He hesitated before he pulled it out and flipped it open. He glanced at the number and closed the phone. He couldn't do this... Not again. He squeezed the Nokia tightly before he shoved it back in his pocket. He leaned his head on the window of the bus, closing his eyes to the changing scenery.  
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Kirsten found Sandy outside, staring dolefully into the pool.  
  
"Hey..." She said quietly as she sat down beside her husband. She knew as soon as she walked into the house something wasn't right. This house with Sandy, Seth and Ryan was her refuge from the outside world. Now it was too quiet and tension enveloped her sanctuary like a thick fog.  
  
Sandy didn't answer Kirsten, he couldn't find the words to explain what happened. He had been looking at the placid water trying to make sense of the afternoon.  
  
"Where are the boys? Did they go out?"  
  
Sandy shook his head. Kirsten placed her hand on her husband's shoulder.  
  
"Sandy?"  
  
"Seth is in his room...."  
  
Kirsten waited for Sandy to finish the sentence, to tell her where Ryan was, but he didn't say anything else. She felt the knot tighten in her stomach.  
  
"Where's Ryan?"  
  
Sandy leaned over and rested his head on his hands, his elbows digging into his thighs.  
  
"Talk to me Sandy... What's going on?"  
  
"Ryan's gone... I don't... I don't know where..." Sandy couldn't even look at Kirsten when he spoke to her. Kirsten had never seen him this distraught. She fought to keep her voice calm. What the hell had happened?  
  
"Why...?"  
  
Kirsten got no further when Sandy turned and looked at his wife.  
  
"Seth and Ryan were fighting... I pulled Ryan away and I... I..."  
  
She knew what he was going to say next.  
  
"NO! Sandy... No.... How could you? After all he's been through...? Why would you...?"  
  
Kirsten pulled away from her husband.  
  
"Kirsten... I thought..."  
  
Kirsten stood up.  
  
"No, you didn't think...!" Kirsten raised her voice. She didn't care if the neighbours heard. Hell, she didn't care if all of Newport heard. "You would have never hit Seth... You've been telling me that you love Ryan like a son...Is this how you show him? What could he have possible done to make you think he deserved that?"  
  
"He slept with Summer..."  
  
Kirsten turned and saw Seth standing by the French doors. Sandy got to his feet. She walked away from him and stood in front of Seth.  
  
"Do you really believe Ryan would do that to you?" She asked gently.  
  
Seth looked down at the ground.  
  
"I don't.... I don't know?"  
  
Kirsten gently lifted her son's chin with her hand and looked into his tear filled eyes.  
  
"Yes, you do know... He would never hurt you like that."  
  
"But why would..."  
  
No one noticed that Summer had walked up behind Seth. She wrapped her arms around his waist.  
  
"Happy six month anniversary, Cohen..."  
  
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Ryan blinked several times as he got off the bus and took in his surroundings. The bus terminal in Sacramento didn't look much different from the one in Newport. He found his way to the washroom. He relieved himself and went to the sink to wash his hands. He tried to avoid looking in the mirror but he caught a glimpse of himself anyway. This time he did bring a hand up to his face. His left eye was swollen shut. The bruise extended from just above his eyebrow down to his jaw line. As often as he had been smacked around before, nothing had ever hurt him as much as this had. He dried his hands. Ryan buried his feelings. The life he had with the Cohens was over.  
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Summer felt Seth stiffen in her arms. She smiled. She knew he'd forgotten their anniversary and now he'd have to spend the next few days making it up to her. She held out the neatly wrapped package.  
  
"Admit it Cohen... You forgot..."  
  
"Summer.... I..." Seth started to stammer.  
  
She was oblivious to his discomfort.  
  
"Open it Cohen... Don't keep me waiting...." Summer noticed that Kirsten stepped back towards Sandy. She realized she was the only one smiling.  
  
"Cohen?" She said softly.  
  
"Did you think I wouldn't find out about you and Ryan?" Seth whispered.  
  
"It was supposed to be a secret... How did you find out? Where is he any way? I know he wanted to see the look on your face when..."  
  
Seth angrily cut her off.  
  
"The look on my face? This look?" Seth yelled. "The look when I found out you were sleeping with my best friend...?"  
  
The silence that followed was earth shattering. Summer was the first to speak.  
  
"Cohen, what the fuck are you talking about?"  
  
"Did you think I wasn't going to find out? I'm just "clueless Cohen"...Too stupid to realize you're getting it on with Ryan? Did you guys have a good laugh at my expense? Was our dating just a game to you?" Seth seethed through gritted teeth.  
  
Summer took a couple of steps towards Seth. Her anger now matched his.  
  
"I don't know where you got the idea that I was cheating on you... With Ryan? EW!...He's like your brother... He was helping me with this!"  
  
She threw the still wrapped packed to the ground and turned to walk away. Anger and sadness jockeyed for control. She looked at him one more time.  
  
"Cohen... You're an ass..."  
  
Seth bent down and picked up the package. The wrapping paper had torn, revealing the contents; three hard to find imported comics and two tickets to Comic-Con, one in his name and one in Summer's.  
  
The tears fell freely as Seth sat down, clutching the comics. Sandy walked slowly into the pool house, trying to process what he had just heard and desperately wishing he could undo the events of the last 8 hours. Kirsten stood amidst the rubble of her broken family.  
  
Ryan walked. He willed his legs to move... 


	2. Chapter Two

Thanks for all the reviews. You guys are great. It's time to play again.  
  
Josh, I grovel at your feet because I have no money to spare. Have your lawyer contact Ratticus. We'll do lunch.  
  
Chapter Two  
  
Marissa sat back in the paisley print overstuffed chair in her bedroom, curling her long legs under her. She had seen Ryan walk away from the pool house and had later heard the "discussion" between the Cohens. It had worked all too well. She played on Seth's insecurities. It really didn't take much. She cried on his shoulder over Ryan seeming so distant and secretive. She told Seth that she suspected he was seeing someone behind her back and she couldn't deal with that again, not after what Luke did to her. She let it slip that Ryan had been spending a lot of time with Summer and knowing he'd been with more than a few girls before... It was so easy to make Seth believe 22=5.  
  
She had held Ryan's heart in her hands. He hadn't given it to her, she took it, just as she'd taken all the pretty things she had. Marissa knew Luke was fucking around. It didn't matter to her. Her OD in Tijuana was carefully planned so Ryan would find her and rescue her. She used him to piss off her mother and to make Luke jealous. She knew Ryan only saw her as a friend but she wanted more. He couldn't give it to her. He was concentrating on his new life with the Cohens and she didn't want to be second choice. She'd never be anyone's second choice. If she couldn't have him, no one would.  
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Ryan spent the night drinking coffee at the Waffle House. The waitress smiled at him when he made up a story of not being able to sleep and didn't want to disturb his girlfriend. She pretended not to see the bruise covering half his face and kept his coffee topped up. She brought him a plate of bacon and eggs that had been refused by another customer because the eggs were cooked incorrectly. Ryan gratefully accepted the plate. He read the paper while he ate, studying the classifieds. He was on auto pilot, no longer thinking of what had transpired, concentrating only on getting through the next day. That's how he'd done it before, living with Dawn and her flavour of the month boyfriends. When thinking of the next day got to be too much, Ryan would concentrate on getting through the next few hours or the next few minutes. Whatever it took to keep him moving forward.  
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Kirsten drummed her fingers on the side of her coffee mug. Seth was hiding in his room and Sandy hadn't come out of the pool house yet. She was angry at him for hitting Ryan, angry at his loss of self-control. She knew he had lashed out in fear over Seth being hurt, but couldn't understand why he felt like Seth needed to be protected from Ryan. She was angry at Seth for believing that Ryan would betray him like that. She was angry at Ryan for leaving instead of explaining his side of the story and she was angry at herself, because the building fury she felt was not going to solve anything. She knew that Ryan wouldn't come home on his own. Sandy and Seth had hurt him too much. There had been days during the past year when she was sure he would run from the family. It hadn't been easy for him to adjust to their family, to Newport, to Harbour. She watched as on those days Ryan worked through his fears and doubts, learning to interact with them, but they hadn't learned to interact with him. Did they learn anything at all?  
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Seth tried to turn his brain off. His heart was telling him that there was no way Ryan or Summer would do anything to hurt him, but his brain couldn't wrap around the fact that Marissa would lie to him. She said she loved Ryan. Why would she make something like that up? It had to be true, but Summer had been shocked, then outraged when he accused her of sleeping with Ryan. Ryan had stood there speechless, not comprehending what he was being accused of. He didn't get a chance to defend himself when Seth had taken a swing at him.  
  
"Seth.... Why?" was all he was able to say before Seth lunged at him. Seth watched as his dad spun Ryan around and hit him hard. He watched as Ryan wavered, fighting to keep his balance. He waited for Ryan to say something else... To say anything... Seth stood there and watched as his brother, his best friend, his partner in crime walked out and quietly closed the door behind him.  
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Sandy searched through Ryan's things, tearing through the drawers, looking for clues as to where the boy might have gone. He had already called everyone he could think of. No one knew where he might have gone.  
  
The sun's rays were now breaking through the horizon. Ryan had been gone for 16 hours. Sandy had dialed the cell phone Ryan carried every 10 minutes, not getting an answer. His frantic search revealed nothing. An address book held only the prison locations of Dave and Trey Atwood. Sandy opened the closet door and turned on the light. The clothes they had bought for Ryan hung neatly organized. Sandy was just about to shut the door when an old backpack caught his eye. He pulled it out and brought it to the bed. He undid the clasps and emptied the contents of the bag. A pair of jeans, a couple t-shirts, socks, boxers, toothbrush. His hooded sweatshirt. A dog-eared copy of Kavalier and Clay, a left over family Chrismukkah card, the map Seth had given him with the course plotted to Tahiti. An envelope wrapped tightly with elastics.  
  
Sandy unwrapped the rubber bands and opened the envelope. He held his breath as he counted nearly $600. Sandy realized that Ryan's hold on having a normal family life with them was tenuous at best. This backpack was ready for a quick getaway. Sandy slowly exhaled, tears welling in his eyes again. He held the backpack of despair close to his chest, rocking back and forth.  
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Caleb Nichol buttoned his suit jacket and reached up to straighten his perfectly knotted tie. He glanced over at his still sleeping wife, the former Julie Cooper, the present Julie Nichol. He was surprised that she still shared the same bedroom. Julie had been quite adamant after he'd lost a good part of his fortune and had to "restructure" The Newport Group due to some not so legal business dealings that the marriage would be in name only. Julie Cooper Nichol would not walk away from a wedded union with nothing again. She was a shrewd negotiator and would do whatever it took to rebuild the firm. Then she'd take half of the company and walk away. What Caleb neglected to tell her was that he no longer owned The Newport Group. He was CEO in name only. He couldn't even sign off on a cheque. Kirsten Cohen was now the sole owner of the company he had spent his life building.  
  
He poured himself a cup of coffee and grimaced at the taste. Hazelnut Crème. Julie's favourite. She knew he hated flavoured coffee. Dumping the putrid liquid down the drain, he turned to leave the house, nearly colliding with Marissa. They stared warily at each other.  
  
"Good Morning Marissa." Caleb said carefully.  
  
His step-daughter barely acknowledged him.  
  
"What are your plans for the day?" He asked awkwardly, fiddling with the locks on his briefcase.  
  
Marissa shrugged. She didn't give a rat's ass about her mother's new husband.  
  
"Have a good day then." Caleb couldn't leave the house fast enough. He regretted giving into Julie about coercing her daughter to live with them. He wished she had stayed with Jimmy. Caitlyn was easier to handle. He could buy her affection. Retrieving China for her just before he married Julie ensured a place for him in the little girl's life.  
  
Caleb slid behind the wheel of his black Lexus. The Jaguar had been sold. He could have avoided selling it, but it was one way of twisting the knife as far as his wife was concerned. Now he drove a leased bottom end Lexus and banked the profits from the Jag in a bank in the Caymans.  
  
He briefly thought of dropping in to get a decent cup of coffee at Kirsten's house but he remembered overhearing the hushed tones of loud conversations floating through their open windows last night. He knew his daughter would confide in him. She may never trust him as a businessman ever again, but she was still daddy's little girl and for her, family was job one. Shifting the car out of reverse, he drove to the downsized office.  
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
The line up for the checkout in the Target store moved slowly. Some lady was arguing with the cashier over what amounted to no more than half a dollar. As careful as he needed to be with his money, Ryan was tempted to throw a couple of quarters down just to get the woman out of the store. His purchases lay on the conveyor belt. A pair of jeans, a couple t- shirts, socks, boxers, toothbrush. A hooded sweatshirt. A backpack, soap, toothpaste and a small towel. A bottle of water, a protein bar, a bag of chips. $104.27. Ryan left the store and stuffed everything in his new backpack, tucking the receipt in his wallet. He slung the pack over his shoulder, turned left and started walking.  
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Kirsten called her executive assistant and had her reschedule her meetings. Katherine passed along a couple of items that needed to be taken care of that day. Kirsten said she would fax the required documents and meet with the new contractors in a few days.  
  
It had now been 20 hours since Ryan disappeared. 4 more hours and they could officially declare him missing. Kirsten hated the idea of getting the police involved, but since Ryan's probation ended a couple of weeks ago she wasn't worried about him being arrested for leaving them. She was worried that the police wouldn't take this seriously. The Cohens were merely his guardians and he had just turned 17. Since he'd left of his own volition, Ryan would be placed at the bottom of a long list of missing kids.  
  
He wasn't just any kid, he was her kid. Kirsten went into Sandy's office and rifled through his rolo-dex. In a world of palm pilots and cell phones with internet access, Sandy was still a paper and pencil kind of man. She found what she was looking for, the name of the private detective Sandy had hired to find Ryan's mother. Now he'd find her son. Not Dawn's son... Her son...  
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Seth wandered into the kitchen. As he looked at the empty stool, the memories of the previous day barreled over him. He was drowning in a sea of guilt. He still couldn't process the events of yesterday, but he should have known Ryan would never lie to him. Ryan had his back from day one and except for the occasional use of car keys, Ryan had never asked him for anything.  
  
Summer was the most brutally honest person he knew. If she was seeing someone else she would have told him. Even if that person was Ryan.  
  
Marissa? Despite the fact that she had lived next door to him for over 10 years and she was Summer's best friend, he didn't really know her. He had to talk to Summer. He needed to talk to Ryan. He needed Ryan to come home. He hadn't realized how much he needed Ryan.  
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Sandy carried the worn backpack into the house and set it down on the counter. Kirsten came out of Sandy's office. She felt her husband's presence in the house and padded to the kitchen. Seth was standing beside his father. She looked at the bag. She recognized it as the one Ryan brought his meager belongings from Chino in.  
  
Sandy spoke in a strained voice.  
  
"I found this in his closet. It's packed. He was always ready to run... It's like he knew this wouldn't last... that somehow we would let him down and send him away. I let him down.... I sent him away..."  
  
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Dusk was starting to settle in the sky. Ryan pulled on his sweatshirt and continued walking. 


	3. Chapter Three

I told muchtvs that I'd have this posted by 11pm. Well, I lied. I can't type that fast. Thanks again for all your comments. I'm truly honoured.  
  
Josh, I'm still waiting for you to proclaim your undying love. Call me hon... I'll let you wear the boots.  
  
All legal disclaimers apply.  
  
Chapter Three  
  
Kirsten's worries were proven correct. The police didn't want to take Ryan's disappearance seriously. She and Sandy couldn't believe that the police were telling her to go home and wait out Ryan's "tantrum".  
  
"I beg your pardon...?"  
  
The iciness in Kirsten's voice revealed that she was every bit her father's daughter.  
  
"Ma'am... I'm just saying he'll probably come back on his own... Maybe he was just waiting for his probation to end before he ran off... Is there anything of value missing?"  
  
Kirsten leaned in and gripped the edge of the officer's desk so hard her knuckles were white. 20 years of marriage and Sandy had never seen his wife like this.  
  
"A missing silver tea set or a stolen Rolex would make you take this seriously? Is that what you're telling me? Stuff that means nothing is worth more to you than my missing kid?"  
  
Sandy reached for Kirsten's hand and brought her back closer to him. He put his arm around her shoulder.  
  
"Ma'am... Ryan Atwood is not your kid. He's a ward of the state. We'll send a copy of the report over to Child Services but..."  
  
Kirsten broke free from Sandy's grasp.  
  
"We've fed him, clothed him and loved him. He damn well is my kid and you better do everything you can to bring Ryan back to us or I'll make sure your ass is tied up in a lawsuit for so long you're going to be lucky if you can end your police career as a security guard for Wal-Mart!"  
  
With that, Kirsten stomped out of the police station. Sandy pulled out his card, wrote his home number on the back and handed it to the beleaguered officer.  
  
"I trust you'll keep us informed. I'd hate for my wife to have to come back here and make sure you're doing your job." Sandy's voice was flat and unfeeling as he fought to keep his emotions in check.  
  
Kirsten was pacing outside. As soon as Sandy reached her she lost her resolve. Sandy pulled her into a hug.  
  
"I want him back Sandy... I need him back... I want our family whole again..."  
  
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Marissa adjusted her sunglasses, only half listening to Summer. The weather was perfect and the beach wasn't too busy. She lowered her head to peer over her shades to look at the well built lifeguard walking by.  
  
"Coop... Coop?"  
  
Marissa turned to Summer.  
  
"What do I do about this mess with Cohen?"  
  
She waited a minute before answering her best friend.  
  
"Summer, why do you care? It's just Seth Cohen... You'll find somebody else..."  
  
Summer couldn't believe what she was hearing.  
  
"Doesn't it bother you someone told Cohen that your boyfriend and I are getting it on? I mean, uh, no offense Coop, Ryan's cute and all, but he's no Seth Cohen..."  
  
Marissa just shrugged.  
  
"Ryan and I aren't together anymore. He had no time for me. He was busy with Theresa or helping the Cohens with whatever project they were working on... I wasn't his first priority..."  
  
Summer sat up in her lounge chair and turned to face Marissa.  
  
"Listen to yourself Coop... Chino's known Theresa forever. Why shouldn't he help her out? You know her baby isn't his... So what if he works with the Cohens. He lives with them. I don't get pissed when Seth does stuff with his parents. Ryan's got this mutant "white knight" gene thing happening. He risked everything to prove to you Oliver was crazy and dangerous. He could have gone back to juvie. He did it for you..."  
  
Marissa didn't say anything, but not for the reasons Summer thought. It was true. Ryan could have ended up back in jail because of the fight with Oliver. She had made a strategic error. Just as she used Ryan to make Luke jealous, she tried to use Oliver to get to Ryan. She miscalculated Oliver's mental state. When it was all over and the fallout settled, Ryan had changed. He only wanted her friendship. She even threw herself at him, offering him her body and Ryan had rejected her...  
  
Well, now she had made sure the Cohens rejected him.  
  
"I've gotta go Sum. I'll call you later..."  
  
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Seth had been trying to get a hold of Summer all morning. She wasn't answering her phone. He had left half a dozen voice mail messages, each one asking if they could talk. He wasn't expecting her to call back... Not really.  
  
He left the main house, entered the pool house and lay down on the bed. Rosa must have been in to straighten up. A pile of Ryan's laundered clothes were neatly folded on a chair, waiting to be put away. Ryan had been uncomfortable with someone else doing his laundry, so the compromise he made with Rosa was that she would wash his dirty clothes and he would put the clean ones away. A piece of paper sat on top of the pile. From the looks of it, it had gone through the wash. Seth reached for it, gingerly unfolded it and read the note. The writing was faded but he could still make out the words.  
  
Times and addresses.  
  
The times all coincided when Ryan had "errands to run" and Summer had "other plans". The addresses were of comic book stores in the surrounding county. Summer's anniversary present to him. The present that sat half wrapped on his desk because he couldn't bring himself to look at it. The present Ryan had helped Summer find.  
  
Why did Marissa think Ryan and Summer were screwing around?  
  
Why did he believe her?  
  
Nothing made sense. He lay down on the bed again and closed his eyes. He saw the look on Ryan's face when he accused him of banging Summer.  
  
"Seth... Why...?"  
  
He saw Ryan backing away after Seth drove his fist into his stomach.  
  
"Seth... Why...?"  
  
He saw Ryan take another step back and put his hands up as if to stop Seth before Seth lunged at him.  
  
"Seth... Why...?"  
  
He saw his dad run into the pool house.  
  
"Seth... Why...?"  
  
He saw his dad pulling Ryan away.  
  
"Seth... Why...?"  
  
He saw his dad make a fist.  
  
"Seth... Why...?"  
  
He saw his dad's fist connect with Ryan's face.  
  
"Seth... Why...?"  
  
He saw Ryan walk out the door.  
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Kirsten and Sandy sat in their family room, listening intently as John Rueben, a private investigator they'd used before, went over the information he had gathered.  
  
"I checked in with a cop buddy of mine and Ryan has now been added to the data bank of missing kids. Police stations within a 500 mile radius have been notified. If he doesn't turn up in the next couple of days his profile will go nationwide..."  
  
Kirsten squeezed Sandy's hand. As angry as she was with him, she knew the guilt he was carrying was eating him alive.  
  
"Is there anything else you can tell us?"  
  
John nodded his head.  
  
"He hasn't made any calls from the cell phone he has. He accessed his bank account but only withdrew $300. That leads me to believe he might still be in the area. We'll be able to trace him when he goes for more money. The bank will call as soon as there's anymore activity. I'll be notified as soon as he uses the cell phone. We can get an idea of his location from that. I'll check out the bus station, but I'm pretty sure he's holed up somewhere close."  
  
The private investigator stood up. Kirsten and Sandy walked him to the door.  
  
"I'll be in contact with you on a daily basis... I'll find him... I'll bring him home..."  
  
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"There are usually 4 to a room, but with the nice weather we're pretty empty so you'll have the room to yourself for a while. There's a locker... You can put your things in. We'll supply you with a lock. No drugs, no alcohol... Smoking is outside the building only. We do random checks of the lockers and if you're caught with anything you're not supposed to have, then you're out. The maximum stay is 30 days. We serve breakfast at 7am and dinner at 5:30pm..."  
  
Ryan looked around. He was in a shelter run by the Salvation Army. It was old, but it was clean. He'd been in a lot worse. His tour guide was Captain Matthews. He ran the shelter along with the congregants of the Salvation Army Citadel.  
  
"Marty..."  
  
Ryan looked up, momentarily forgetting the name he was now using.  
  
"'m sorry... What was that?"  
  
Captain Matthews looked the young man over. He was quiet and soft spoken. His eyes had a haunted quality to them and judging from his demeanor, he'd been through an emotional wringer.  
  
"I said why don't you grab a shower? I'll show you the washroom and the laundry facilities and then we can see if Cory has something leftover from dinner that we can feed you. I'll meet you in the dining hall in half an hour."  
  
The captain left, not waiting for an answer. He sent up a quick prayer for "Marty" as he walked down the stairs, hoping to sweet talk Cory into opening the kitchen.  
  
Ryan stood in front of the locker, looking at the ID he'd used.  
  
Marty Nevis. Seth was Steve Sebolski. Vegas seemed like a lifetime ago. Ryan Atwood's life had stopped. Marty Nevis' had just begun.  
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Sandy didn't sleep. He was driving the streets of Orange County looking for Ryan. He couldn't allow himself to close his eyes.  
  
His fist connecting with Ryan's face.  
  
His stomach churned as he heard the sound of the impact over and over again. He couldn't get the sound out of his head. The look on Ryan's face was forever burned into his brain.  
  
Sandy tried to justify it, hoping to assuage his guilt. Who was he kidding? There was no justification. Only a moment of blind anger. A moment that may have cost him a kid he loved like a son.  
  
Kirsten surprised him at the police station. Not the way she bullied the officer into doing his job, she was Caleb Nichol's daughter. She could hold her own with the "big boys". No, it was the way she referred to Ryan as "her kid"... Not once, but twice. Maybe that was the difference. Sandy loved Ryan like a son and Kirsten loved Ryan as her son. Somewhere along the line Kirsten had knocked down the last barrier and claimed Ryan as her own.  
  
Sandy realized that on some level, he still saw Ryan as a client, as a guest in their house, a noble cause. For all his talk about giving Ryan a family, safety and a future, he hadn't totally accepted Ryan. Ryan must have felt it as well. That's why he kept a bag packed, always ready to run. Sandy didn't offer him a home or a family or safety or a future. Sandy only gave him a temporary respite from his old life, ready to take it all away. He didn't make a long term commitment with the boy, he dangled a fucking carrot and then snatched it from him.  
  
Sandy pulled over to the side of the road. Tears were not going to fix this. He had to fix this. It was the least he could do. 


	4. Chapter Four

Same disclaimers as always. Ratticus foisted off legal duties on Jeremiah and his partner Tad.  
  
Chapter Four  
  
Summer listened to the messages Seth left the day before. It was now 7am. Too early to decide if she should call back. All the messages said the same thing. He needed to talk to her. She fumed as she replayed all 6 of Seth's frantic pleas. His voice was desperate. This whole thing was crazy. Cohen was crazy. Ryan? She had doubts about his sanity after living with the Cohens for the last year.  
  
She had barely spoken with another guy since Seth stood on the coffee cart in the student union at Harbour and declared his affection for her. Well, there was Chino, but he was like, Seth's brother. When they drove to the comic book stores for Seth's present, Ryan didn't string more than 4 or 5 words together at a time. She'd had more in-depth conversations with stroke patients when she candy-striped at the hospital.  
  
The only one in her fantasies was a tall, skinny, curly haired, ½ gentile, needs to go to "jewschool" for conversion classes, adorable schmuck that was going to fulfill her dreams of becoming a Shiksa goddess. Seth Cohen was the first boy she had sex with and she was going to make damn sure he was her last. No ass-hat fuckwit was going to ruin her good thing. She would make sure Cohen groveled before she let him off the hook and tell him things were still okay between them and she'd forgive his sudden loss of brain cells. First things first, though. She needed to talk to Ryan. Then she'd talk to Seth... Maybe.  
  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Ryan made his bed and folded his dirty clothes, placing them in the bottom of the locker. Closing the door, he snapped the lock shut and deposited the key in his pocket. He thought about skipping breakfast, but knew he needed something to keep him going while he looked for work.  
  
Don't think.... You can get through the next hour. One hour.... 60 minutes.... 3600 seconds... Don't think... Don't think...  
  
The dining room was surprisingly full, considering there were maybe 12 people staying during the night. Ryan lined up for breakfast, avoiding eye contact. The line moved quickly and soon Ryan found an empty table in the far corner  
  
Captain Matthews spotted Ryan. He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat in the chair opposite the youth.  
  
"Good morning, Marty..."  
  
"'Morning..." Ryan mumbled, barely glancing at the Captain before he went back to moving the food around his plate.  
  
"Roger told me you had a restless night. Is your head bothering you? We have a nurse on staff that can take a look at your eye..."  
  
Ryan looked up again. Roger? Who the hell was Roger?  
  
"'s okay." He pointed to the left side of his face. "Doesn't bother me..."  
  
Ryan played with the day old muffin, no doubt donated by a local bakery. The way Ryan had said "Doesn't bother me," told the Captain that this probably wasn't the first time the young man had a bruise like that.  
  
"What brings you to Carmichael?"  
  
Ryan shrugged.  
  
"Seems as good a place as any to look for work..."  
  
"What kind of work are you looking for?  
  
Ryan gave up all pretense of eating and pushed the plate away.  
  
"Construction... Anything, really..."  
  
"Any experience?"  
  
Ryan finally made eye contact with the man.  
  
"Framing mostly. I've done some roofing, did a lot of digging, hauled a lot of mortar for the brickies..."  
  
Neither spoke for a few moments. Captain Matthews rose from the chair.  
  
"I can make a couple of phone calls. I've got some friends in the trades. Is that okay with you?"  
  
"Yeah... That would be great... Thanks..."  
  
Ryan looked back down at the table.  
  
"You'd better finish your breakfast. Cory can't stand to see food wasted. If she finds out you didn't eat she'll pick a book out of the Old Testament and beat you with it. She's quite fond of Judges..."  
  
Okay, it wasn't his best attempt at humour, but he hoped for some sort of reaction from Marty.  
  
Ryan pulled the plate towards him and broke off a piece of muffin.  
  
"21? If that boy is 21, then I sold tickets to The Last Supper" the Captain thought to himself.  
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Restructuring The Newport Group was time consuming, tedious, more complicated than it should have been and the last thing on Kirsten's mind. Ryan had been missing four days now and even John Rueben now believed Ryan wasn't in Newport anymore. He hadn't used his cell phone, he hadn't withdrawn anymore money. $300. He couldn't have gotten far on $300. How was he living? Where was he living? She was going to make his life a living hell when he got back home; after she gave him a long hug or two... or three. She briefly entertained the thought of ripping off his arm and beating him with it for scaring her so badly...  
  
She shook her head, trying to focus on settlement offers and new contracts but her mind kept going back to a sandy-haired, blue eyed boy who'd stolen her heart.  
  
"Please Lord, bring Ryan home to us..."  
  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Sandy spent every spare moment looking for Ryan. He had driven to Chino, but that turned out to be a dead end. Theresa hadn't heard from Ryan since she and Eddie were married. Sandy looked for him at the places Theresa said he used to hang out, but there was no sign of him. Ryan had never spoken of any friends he had other than Arturo, Theresa and Eddie. Sandy was positive that she was telling the truth when she told him that she hadn't seen him. Theresa promised that she would call if Ryan showed up.  
  
Sandy pulled off onto a side street and stopped the car. He slammed his hands down on the steering wheel. Guilt reared its ugly head again. He looked at Ryan's backpack, sitting on the seat beside him. He didn't know why he brought it with him, only that he felt he needed too. It was his hairshirt.  
  
What the fuck had he been thinking attacking Ryan like that?  
  
He saw Seth charge at Ryan.  
  
He saw Ryan step back.  
  
He saw Ryan put his hands up in self defense.  
  
He saw himself grabbing Ryan.  
  
Hitting him.  
  
Not pulling his punch.  
  
Hitting a boy who had been hit his entire life.  
  
Hitting a boy he promised to protect.  
  
Hitting a boy who didn't hit back.  
  
Hitting a boy and hearing the sickening sound of flesh and bone impacting on flesh and bone.  
  
Hitting a boy and then watching his very essence crumble.  
  
After everything Ryan had lived through and survived, he was the one who succeeded in breaking Ryan's spirit.  
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Seth lay face down on his bed, his face buried in his pillow. He hardly left his room during the last 96 hours. Summer had yet to call back. He had tried calling Ryan, but it was obvious he'd either turned the cell phone off or dumped it somewhere. He desperately wanted to drive around with his dad and look for Ryan, but the fear of possibly having to face him kept Seth holed up in his room.  
  
He knew he was being stupid.  
  
This whole thing was stupid.  
  
His own stupidity was at the root of all of this.  
  
He believed that Ryan could have done this to him.  
  
Stupid.  
  
He believed Summer could have done this to him.  
  
Stupid.  
  
He believed Marissa's story of seeing Ryan and Summer together.  
  
Stupid... Stupid... Stupid.  
  
Seth rolled over and pushed himself up to a seated position. He picked up the phone, contemplating calling Summer. He nearly dropped it when it let out a shrill ring.  
  
Caller ID.  
  
Summer.  
  
It rang three times before he had the courage to answer it.  
  
"S-Summer.... I'm really..."  
  
"Can it Cohen. I want to speak to Ryan."  
  
"He's not... I, uh...  
  
Summer turned up the snark factor.  
  
"I'm not speaking to you Cohen. Get Chino on the phone..."  
  
"He's not here... We don't know where he is..."  
  
There was a moment of dead air.  
  
"What do you mean you don't know where he is? He lives with you. You guys pretty much adopted him..."  
  
Summer could hear Seth lose his composure.  
  
"I don't ... We... I... we had a fight... before you got here the other night and..."  
  
"He's been gone for 4 days?" Summer questioned softly. Not waiting for an answer she finished. "I'll be over in a few minutes. When this is over and everything is normal again Cohen, I'm going to kick your ass..."  
  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Marissa stared blankly at the tv screen, aimlessly changing channels. She reached forward and brought her glass of Stoli and cranberry juice to her lips. For the last 3 nights she had been partying at Holly's beach house. She was trapped in her vodka fueled "ennui". That's what her mother called it. Ennui. What a fucking idiotic word. It was Julie's new expression. Two weeks in France and Julie Cooper Nichol thought she could buy class and status. She thought she could marry into it, not once but twice. Just like a boy from Chino thought he'd stop being white trash because he was living in his lawyer's rich wife's house. Marissa giggled to herself.  
  
He's not living there now.  
  
She turned the tv off and got up from the couch. Holly had another "thing" happening tonight.  
  
No sense in sobering up now.  
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Sandy threw his keys on the counter and put Ryan's backpack in the dining room. Returning to the kitchen he reached into a cabinet, pulled out his bottle of Glenfidditch and poured 2 fingers into a glass filled with ice.  
  
He stared at the amber liquid.  
  
A fine single malt scotch.  
  
Better than fine.  
  
The way he felt at that moment was that he needed this first-rate example of grain distillery.  
  
A need, an ache, a craving, a desire, a hunger, a longing, lusting, yearning.  
  
Wanting to crawl inside the bottle and forget the damage he'd caused.  
  
Needing to forget the damage he'd caused.  
  
Sandy didn't notice Kirsten watching him. He didn't notice the worry etched in her face. He took one last look at the drink that was now calling his name.  
  
Inviting him, flirting with him, tempting him.  
  
Sandy picked up the glass and drained the contents into the sink. As he returned the bottle to the top shelf on the cabinet, Kirsten slipped out of the kitchen, relieved at the choice he made and the small victory won.  
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
It was nearly 7pm when Ryan returned to the shelter. He spent the day at the employment agency and followed up on a couple of prospects. Lack of a phone or an address would make it difficult for potential employers to get a hold of him. Ryan wouldn't use the Cohen's cell phone and was uneasy letting anyone know he was staying at the Men's Mission. He'd have to check back in person in a couple of days to see if anything panned out.  
  
A large stocky blond haired man with a nose that looked like it had been on the receiving end of a closed fist one too many times was seated behind the front desk. Ryan looked at him nervously.  
  
"I'm uh,.... I'm Marty.... I'm staying here... um... Upstairs.  
  
The man stood up. Large was an understatement.  
  
"I'm Roger Van Der Hylsma. I'll be holding down the fort tonight. Mark will be up in the corridor tonight. You can see him or come to me if you need anything.  
  
"Thanks" Ryan said quietly. Now he knew who Roger was and what the noises and shadows were outside his room. He t ried to ignore the rumbling in his stomach. He hadn't eaten since that morning.  
  
The sounds didn't escape Roger.  
  
"Cory left a plate for you in the fridge. Go get cleaned up and I'll heat it for you."  
  
Ryan opened up his locker. It had been searched. At least his things were put back in some semblance of order. The pockets of the dirty jeans in the bottom of the pile had been turned inside out.  
  
He sighed.  
  
He had no expectation of privacy in a shelter.  
  
He took the cell phone out of his front pocket and hid it in the pile of dirty clothes. As much as he would never use it, he couldn't bring himself to get rid of it. Maybe tomorrow.  
  
An envelope on the top shelf caught his eye.  
  
Ryan opened it and read.  
  
Marty, Be nice to Roger. He's your new boss. You start Monday. Captain Jim.  
  
Two days.... 48 hours closer to his new start. 


	5. Chapter Five

Silverweaver wants to beat me with a stick and storymom is going to rip my innards out and feed them to her bear because I haven't updated sooner. You two really know the way to my heart. I can feel the love. I'm basking in the afterglow of love.  
  
Josh, thanks for sharing the love. In case of any lawsuit I will claim a mental defect. I own nothing.  
  
Chapter Five  
  
Sandy threw the pen across his office. Two and a half weeks... 18 days... It was as if Ryan fell off the face of the earth. The private investigator hadn't found a trace of the boy anywhere. Kids don't just disappear without a trace.  
  
Sandy knew that wasn't true.  
  
Kids did vanish.  
  
Every day.  
  
Every disappearance was one too many.  
  
For every kid found, scores remained lost. Now his kid, Ryan Atwood, biological son of Dawn and Dave, son by choice of Sandy and Kirsten, biological brother of Trey, brother by choice of Seth, was a statistic.  
  
He'd become the very thing Sandy tried to protect him from. A moment of uncontrolled anger and frenzy from Sandy the guardian, Sandy the father figure, did more damage to Ryan than all the years of abuse he'd endured at the hands of others who "loved" him.  
  
Guilt was now turning to anger.  
  
Guilt looked inward.  
  
Anger looked out.  
  
Guilt was self-defeating.  
  
Anger could be channeled.  
  
Anger could be focused. Directed at finding a missing 17 year old, hauling his ass back home and making him believe that he is a vital part of the Cohen family. Making him believe he is loved as their son.  
  
Sandy stood up and walked out of his office. He knocked on Rachel's door. She looked up, surprised to see the devastated look that Sandy had been wearing replaced by a look of determination.  
  
"I'm taking a leave of absence. You can either grant it or I quit. Either way I'm leaving..."  
  
Rachel came from around her desk and sat on the corner of it, her arms folded across her chest.  
  
"I'll re-assign your cases. You'll owe everyone big-time when you get back..."  
  
She reached out and touched Sandy's arm.  
  
"Bring Ryan home..."  
  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Seth tied the rigging, keeping the sails at half mast. He leaned back and closed his eyes, content to drift as far as the anchor would allow. He was able to force himself from dwelling on the fight with Ryan and was now filling his brain with thoughts of how to make it up to him. He was getting a lot of practice ingratiating himself to Summer. Obeisant was now his middle name. Summer made it perfectly clear that her forgiveness couldn't be bought. He'd have to earn it. Slowly. Painfully.  
  
At least she was talking to him. Not as much as she was talking to his mother, but at least she acknowledged his presence. If his mother wasn't so worried about Ryan's safety, Seth's mental state and his dad's... well, just his dad, he'd swear his mother and Summer were in cahoots to keep him groveling at Summer's very pretty, Jimmy Choo'ed feet.  
  
The same feet that threatened to kick his ass in Vegas. The same feet that he tickled in the hotel room after getting rid of Ryan's "oh, so last year's trucker hat" that he won playing poker, or rather "playing" the angry guy wearing the trucker hat.  
  
Ryan would have to teach him how to count cards when he came back.  
  
Steve Sebolski and Marty Nevis would clean up in the Vegas.  
  
Seth/Steve would provide the initial stake and Ryan/Marty would bring his card counting abilities...  
  
Seth shot straight up. It was literally an "Aha! Light bulb over the head moment..."  
  
They couldn't locate Ryan Atwood, but maybe they could find Marty Nevis.  
  
Seth pulled up the anchor and raised the sails. He had to get a hold of his father...  
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Throughout this whole ordeal, Kirsten and Summer got to know each other quite well. Summer timed her visits so Kirsten would be home and she could keep an eye on Seth while talking to his mother. She was almost ready to let Seth off the hook. Somebody mindfucked him and mindfucked him good. It had to have been someone he trusted or had no reason to distrust. She had a good idea as to whom it might have been, but she couldn't come up with a reason why. Sure Marissa was pissed at Chino, but it's not like guys weren't lined up to go out with her. She could have her pick of anyone she wanted...  
  
Kirsten set a cup of tea in front of Summer and sat down on the sofa with her own . She enjoyed these visits with Summer and it gave her an insight into her son's girlfriend. She suspected she wasn't the only one who had underestimated the girl. There was more to Summer Roberts than hair, boobs and nails.  
  
Summer had her life planned out and nothing was going to get in her way. She even had Seth's life planned out. The only thing her son would get to pick was his university major. Now she listened as Summer told of her plans for classes at Temple Beth Israel with Seth.  
  
"Seth has never mentioned anything to us about exploring the Jewish faith. I mean he had his Bar Mitzvah, but..."  
  
Summer curled up on the other sofa.  
  
"He didn't say a lot to me either, but I watched him as he listened to Mr. Cohen read the Nana's Haggadah on Passover. It was like something clicked for him... I felt it too. My mother's great grandfather was Jewish. It sort of ended with him. It's like a piece of me is missing. I've got this heritage and I want it back... I was thinking about being a "Shiksa" like you, but now..."  
  
Kirsten raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Actually, the only one who has ever referred to me as a "Shiksa is Sandy's mother. I know she was hoping he would have settled down with a "nice Jewish girl", without the "hair and the nails" and who did something more meaningful with her life than build homes for the wealthy and sleep on 700 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets..."  
  
Now it was Summer's turn to raise an eyebrow.  
  
Kirsten shrugged.  
  
"You had to be there..." Referring to when Sandy frantically pulled her expensive sheets off the bed, hoping to replace them with burlap so the Nana wouldn't think they were spendthrifts.  
  
"Ryan will come home..." Summer leaned forward and hugged Kirsten.  
  
"He'll get it through his head that he's a part of this family... Even if I have to drag him back kicking and screaming. I'm not going to let his stubbornness get in the way of the best thing that ever happened to him."  
  
Kirsten allowed herself to smile. Summer was a force to be reckoned with. Seth didn't stand a chance.  
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Ryan fought the urge to flop face down on the bed. He still had to jump in the shower and then take a bus to see an apartment.  
  
Roger was a tough boss. He demanded a lot, but he treated his employees with respect. He never once made Ryan feel like he was a charity case. Ryan was one of the crew and now thanks to 12 hour workdays, he had enough money to put down first and last months rent on a small apartment. Captain Matthews tried to convince him to stay out the rest of the 30 days he was allowed at the shelter. Ryan appreciated everything the Captain had done for him, but the nights at the shelter left him too much time to think.  
  
To think about what might have been.  
  
Ryan couldn't afford to look back.  
  
All that mattered was the next few hours.  
  
His life had been reduced to living for small fragments of time. Anything else was too painful. He had to travel light. No room for excess baggage.  
  
An hour later, Ryan stood in front of a tidy looking 2 storey house. He double checked the house number with the information written down on a piece of paper.  
  
This was it.  
  
Swallowing hard, he walked up to the door and knocked. A man in his late 30's answered the door. Before Ryan could say a word a loud voice echoed through the house.  
  
"I'm going to kick ass first and take names later!!!"  
  
The man waited a split second and then smiled.  
  
"Don't worry.... It's her bite you have to be scared of... It's much worse than her bark..."  
  
Ryan didn't know what to say. Thankfully the man asked what he could do for him.  
  
"I'm, uh.... I'm... Marty Nevis... Greg Ogden gave me your name about an apartment for rent..."  
  
"Yeah, I'm Will Murray..." He stuck out his hand and Ryan shook it.  
  
"How do you know Greg?"  
  
"I, uh... work with Greg... for, uh...." (Suck it up sentences aren't a foreign concept...) "I work with Greg at Van Der Hylsma Construction."  
  
The door opened again. Will looked up.  
  
"Hon, this is Marty Nevis. Greg told him about the apartment. Marty... This is my wife, Mandy."  
  
Ryan offered her a tentative half-smile.  
  
The apartment was small, neat, furnished and most importantly, in his price range. The Murrays were asking $100 per week. The rent was manageable on his wages.  
  
This was another step further from his past  
  
Another step closer to tomorrow.  
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Seth ran in the front door, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. Running was so not his sport. Halo 2? That was a sport.  
  
Kirsten came out from the kitchen.  
  
"Seth... What's..."  
  
"Mom? Is dad here?" Seth struggled to take in a deep breath.  
  
"He's in his office talking to the private investigator. What is it?"  
  
"Dad!" Seth yelled. "D-A-A-A-D!!"  
  
Kirsten became concerned.  
  
"Seth! Sweetie, calm down..."  
  
Sandy came running out of his office, followed by John Rueben. As soon as Seth saw his father, he pulled out his wallet, fumbling through an assortment of cards. He pulled one out and handed it to his dad.  
  
Sandy took the proffered card. He studied it.  
  
"Who is Steve Sebolski and what is your face doing on his ID card?"  
  
I"ll explain later, dad, but Ryan has one too. Maybe we should stop looking for Ryan Atwood and start looking for Marty Nevis..." 


	6. Chapter Six

The angst, the angst. I can't deal with the angst. Allegra has Ryan beaten up and amnesiac, Parisindy has him floating under the water, Silverweaver has him struggling to put a hooded sweatshirt over his head because Seth didn't think of buying a zip front jacket, Brandywine has him in the hospital, in pain, depressed, the son of a mob boss, his self worth destroyed, his soul shattered, Famous 99 has him withdrawing into himself and feeling unworthy, blaming himself for Seth's drug habit, sitting on the beach in the rain, feeling responsible for Sandy's wrath, Joey has him barely able to breathe with a pneumothorax, and Storymom has the poor boy scared to death of surgery to fix the arm that Sandy broke.  
  
This chapter will be fairly light and fluffy in comparison.  
  
I sort of tweaked the conversation from "The Pilot" Sandy and Ryan had during their first meeting in juvie. No copywrite infringement is intended.  
  
Josh, talk to Pisspot. He's has a brilliant legal mind. You and the frog can work out a deal.  
  
Chapter Six.  
  
Sleep was an elusive desire. Ryan spent every night for the last 3 weeks picturing images of static in his brain. The noise and distorted colours designed to keep memories away. Physically he was tired, muscles were torn, rebuilt and defined. His arms and face were bronzed despite the 45 SPF sunscreen he wore. His hair was shorter, blonder. A trip to Fantastic Sam's and clippers on a number 5 setting helped to keep the sweat from dripping down his face when the sun beat down on him. It also made him look considerably younger.  
  
The guys on the job site took great pleasure in calling him "kid" or "kiddo". He hated that. He never had the luxury of being a kid and he didn't want the burden of being one now.  
  
Ryan groaned and rolled over. He wasn't needed on the job until noon. They were pouring concrete that afternoon and he'd be up to his knees in it. Fun stuff. He felt himself enter the nether world between sleep and consciousness. He was about to let the beckoning darkness finally claim him.  
  
He sensed he was no longer alone in his apartment...  
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Sandy poured himself another mug of coffee. It was his third one that morning. He shared one with Kirsten earlier, before she left for the office.  
  
Work had become her coping mechanism. She couldn't bear to walk past an empty pool house or see an empty spot at the kitchen breakfast counter or the dining room table. She couldn't bear to see Seth aimlessly playing video games by himself. He was supposed to be aimlessly playing video games with Ryan.  
  
Sandy knew his wife cried when she thought she was alone. She was strength personified when she was with them. Her fears and doubts were blanketed by the cloak of optimism she wore in public. Sandy drew strength from Kirsten and poured his out to her when the anxiety of a missing son threatened to consume her.  
  
Now he turned back to the breakfast counter, ready to look over the map he had spread out. Seth was there, studying the map intently. Sandy wordlessly put down his mug in front of his son and then poured himself another. He sat down beside Seth.  
  
"I don't think Ryan is in L.A." Seth said quietly. "We know he didn't head back to Chino or Fresno. L.A.'s too big..."  
  
"That's why he'd head there. It's easier to fly under the radar..." Sandy replied.  
  
Seth shook his head.  
  
"Maybe, but you've got everybody and their grandmother out looking for him. You've probably even thought about calling the Mounties, haven't you?"  
  
Sandy gave his son a sideways glance, but said nothing. Seth caught the look.  
  
"I knew it... What I'm trying to say is Ryan's going to think outside the box. He'll stay away from the big cities. He hasn't taken anymore money out of his bank account, so he's probably working somewhere, right? Maybe he's waiting tables and making killer tips off his blond haired, blue-eyed gentile good looks..."  
  
Seth had hoped that his dad would at least crack a smile. Humour was the Cohen way to deal with crisis. Sandy's heart constricted in his throat. A conversation replayed in his mind.  
  
A conversation he'd filed away, hoping to never have to revisit.  
  
"Look, I can plead this down to a misdemeanour. Petty fine, probation, but know this, stealing a car because your big brother told you to... It's stupid and it's weak. Now those are two things you can't afford to be anymore."  
  
"Two more things..." an angry voice shot back.  
  
Sandy remembered how condescending he must have sounded to Ryan.  
  
"Do you want to change that? Then you've got to get over the fact that life dealt you a bad hand. I get it. We're cut from the same deck, Ryan. I grew up, no money, bad part of the Bronx, my father was gone, my mother worked all the time... I was pissed off and I was stupid..."  
  
Sandy had sat back in smug self-satisfaction. If he could overcome his background then anyone could. He wore his past like a medal around his neck.  
  
He was unprepared for what Ryan had said next.  
  
"And look at you now. I bet you never had to "do" the landlord to get a few extra days to come up with the rent. Never had to "go down" on him in the washroom while your mother was passed out. Pay a little visit to the boiler room... biting your bottom lip so hard that you swear your teeth are going to break through to keep from screaming while he's banging away like a dog in heat..."  
  
Dead silence.  
  
For once Sandy Cohen was temporarily speechless. Ryan had looked away from him. When Sandy found his voice again it was soft and sincere.  
  
"Smart kid like you, you've got to have a plan... some kind of dream?"  
  
Ryan had exhaled slowly before leaning in. His voice was equally as quiet.  
  
"Yeah right. Let me tell you something, okay? Where I'm from, having a dream doesn't make you smart. Knowing it won't come true? That does..."  
  
Sandy remembered the packed backpack. Despite his best efforts, he proved to Ryan that dreams don't come true.  
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
John Rueben sat in his car. He was missing something. The kid hadn't used the cell phone, hadn't withdrawn anymore cash. Ryan had no other family to speak of. His mother was in Reno, working in a third rate club, drunker than most of the patrons. Dawn cried on his shoulder how some rich people stole her son from her.  
  
Her son.  
  
Who should be taking care of her.  
  
Her son.  
  
Her blood.  
  
He owed her.  
  
She could have had him sucked into a sink when she found out she was pregnant. Her life would have turned out better.  
  
She took care of him.  
  
Now that she needed him, he was living the good life, forgetting her and everything she'd done for him.  
  
John shuddered as he remembered her hands on him, writhing in some pathetic imitation of a lap dance. He tipped her generously, just to get away, escaping back to his car, hearing her plaintive wails of "Baby I can give you a real good time..." It made his skin crawl.  
  
Poor kid.  
  
The private investigator decided to try the bus station once more. He had already questioned the employees, but he couldn't ignore the nagging feeling in his gut. He put the car in gear and drove to the depot.  
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Kirsten was reading tenders from various contractors when her father walked into her office. If she didn't know him better she'd swear he was enjoying his diminished role in The Newport Group.  
  
The shareholders were secretly pleased that Caleb Nichol was still involved in the company. He got nailed trying to make them even more money. In the end, they hadn't lost a penny. He paid all the fines from his own fortune. The FTC had frozen his other assets. The ones they could find... Now the shareholders were content to keep their money invested in The Newport Group. The dividends wouldn't be as high, but it was a safe investment.  
  
The stress of Ryan's disappearance had made Kirsten into an even more formidable business woman. She was not afraid to ream out a contractor who tried to take short cuts or not provide the services stipulated in the contracts. It was a game played for control of the jobsite.  
  
Kirsten never lost.  
  
She had their respect.  
  
While Caleb shmoozed the investors, Kirsten retained firsthand knowledge of every property. She oversaw everything. All the tiny details. Details that kept the worst case scenarios regarding Ryan locked away in the dark recesses of her brain.  
  
"I'm buying you lunch Kiki..."  
  
Kirsten barely raised her head.  
  
"I can't Dad... I've got a lot to finish before I head out to Costa Mesa. I need to go over the final specs with Tony... Besides, it's only 9:30."  
  
Caleb wouldn't take no for an answer.  
  
"You can do that after you eat. You're not going to do your family any good if you fall apart because you wouldn't take the time to eat a sandwich."  
  
She put down her papers.  
  
"Sandwich, huh? That's supposed to make me drop everything?"  
  
Caleb knew he had his daughter.  
  
"C'mon, I know a great place. They've got an amazing PB&J. Humour your old man, I might even be able to scrounge up some white bread."  
  
A smile slowly crept across her lips.  
  
"Seth's secret stash?"  
  
"Is there any other...?"  
  
Kirsten grabbed her purse and her keys.  
  
"Race you to the car..."  
  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Ryan's body tensed. He could feel the warm breath on his cheek. His eyes flew open. He was ready to propel himself from the bed.  
  
"I can touch my nose with my tongue... Wanna see?"  
  
Ryan waited for his eyes to focus and his breathing to slow down before trying to speak.  
  
"Can I have some Captain Crunch? I know you bought a big box yesterday. It's way too big for just one person. I think you need to share..."  
  
Ryan stared at the brown eyed, brown haired boy making himself at home. He watched as what was his name again? Yeah, Michael, as Michael rummaged through the cupboards and pulled out a large bowl, filling it with cereal.  
  
"You want some Marty? You have lots..."  
  
Ryan was just about to ask Michael if his mother knew where he was when he heard Mandy.  
  
"Michael! Don't make me look for your scrawny butt."  
  
"Uh-oh."The boy said but didn't look up from his cereal.  
  
"You better let your mom know you're up here.  
  
Michael shrugged and continued eating.  
  
As Ryan stood up to grab a pair of jeans, a knock on the door sent him scrambling to grab his blanket and cover his boxers. Mandy quickly turned her head and shielded her eyes. When Ryan was covered, she glared at her son, but tried not to laugh at the flush traveling up Ryan's face.  
  
"Hi Mom... Marty said I could have some Captain Crunch. He's got the "crew size"... Want some?"  
  
Mandy gritted her teeth and spoke slowly to her son.  
  
"Grab the bowl and get in the house before you wish the pigs ate you when you were little...."  
  
Michael grinned.  
  
"She just wants you to think she's mad... Bye Marty... Thanks for the cereal..."  
  
Mandy struggled to keep from giggling at Marty's discomfort.  
  
"I'm so sorry Marty. Michael has a tendency of making himself at home anywhere. It won't happen again... Maybe you should lock your door..."  
  
Ryan could only nod, not trusting his voice.  
  
Mandy led Michael to the house.  
  
"Mom, he has big boy boxers... Just like me..." 


	7. Chapter Seven

It's Saturday night, I have no social life and that's just how I like it. The Zoloft must really be kicking in because this chapter is angst free. Really... I promise... I know, I know, there must be something wrong with me. Maybe I'm mellowing in my old age. Nah, I don't think so. People like me just become increasingly bitter as we age... and we start collecting cats. Lots and lots of cats...  
  
Chapter Seven  
  
The shrill tones of the "Batman" theme broke the silence in the Range Rover. Sandy looked at Seth before answering it.  
  
"Can you please leave the ring tones on my cell phone alone?"  
  
"Very "Seussian" of you Dad, but no... There's a reason why you can download different rings from the internet. I'm just taking advantage of a service..."  
  
Sandy pressed the talk button.  
  
"Sandy Cohen"  
  
"Sandy, this is John... I might have something. Can you meet me at the bus station?"  
  
Sandy tried not to get excited, but this was a possible lead. The first one they had.  
  
It took them eight and a half minutes to get there. It was taking all of their self control to remain calm.  
  
"It's probably nothing." Seth repeated over and over to himself.  
  
"It's probably nothing." Sandy's mind told him.  
  
"Please God, let it be something." They both whispered.  
  
John met them outside the station. Sandy turned off his emotions. He was now in full lawyer mode. Seth jammed his hands in his pockets, shuffling from one foot to another.  
  
"John... What do you have?"  
  
"I've got a ticket clerk who's pretty sure Ryan got on a bus to Sacramento the day he left your home."  
  
"His home too." Seth added quietly.  
  
"Anyway." John continued. "He remembered selling a ticket to a blond haired kid. Said the kid didn't care where the bus was headed, he just wanted the first one leaving the station."  
  
Sandy tried not to let his disappointment show.  
  
"A blond kid getting on a bus is pretty thin, John..."  
  
"I know, but he said the kid's face was pretty messed up, like he'd been in a fight. He recalled the kid wearing a leather wrist cuff. It's not something you see in Newport very often."  
  
Sandy closed his eyes and thought about what the private investigator said.  
  
"The kid's face was pretty messed up, like he'd been in a fight..."  
  
...He had opened the door of the pool house just as Seth had lunged at Ryan. He watched as Ryan put his hands up.  
  
...In that moment Sandy had forgotten he had two sons. He had one son and the juvenile delinquent he brought into his house.  
  
...He pulled Ryan away from Seth, screaming at him never to touch his son again.  
  
...His fist connected with the side of Ryan's face. His eye and cheek began to discolour immediately.  
  
...His fist connected with the side of Ryan's face. His eye and cheek began to discolour immediately.  
  
...His fist connected with the side of Ryan's face. His eye and cheek began to discolour immediately.  
  
"The kid's face was pretty messed up, like he'd been in a fight..."  
  
It wasn't a fight.  
  
It was a beating.  
  
A beating he was responsible for...  
  
"We have to go to Sacramento, Dad."  
  
John cut Seth off.  
  
"We don't know if he's still there. I'll fly out and see what I can find..."  
  
Sandy caught the disappointed look on his son's face.  
  
"You can fly out, but Seth and I will drive. Ryan's been gone for three weeks and that's three weeks too long. I fucked things up and I have to fix them. I need my son home... I have to bring him home..."  
  
The investigator nodded.  
  
"Call me when you get there. I'll keep you posted in the mean time."  
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Ryan gave up all pretense of trying to sleep. He quickly made his bed and wandered to the table to put the Captain Crunch away. He decided to fill his own bowl with cereal, sloshing milk over top. He used his spoon to bat down the floating rectangles.  
  
Ryan looked at the box. Two and a half pounds of corn flour and sugar comfort food. The red box and smiling Captain had represented good times in his life. Dawn being sober enough to provide groceries. The Cohen's excessive choices of breakfast cereal. His job. His new start.  
  
He quickly finished eating and washed the bowl. Opening the fridge, he threw a few things into his lunch pail and filled a thermal cooler with water and ice, refilling the ice trays before putting them back in the freezer.  
  
It didn't take long before he was ready to go to work. It took him longer to brush his teeth than it did to run his fingers through his short hair. He really did look like a kid. Double checking to make sure he had enough change for the bus, Ryan grabbed his hard hat, lunch pail and thermos. He was just locking the door when he heard a small voice behind him.  
  
Mandy was standing there with a chastised looking Michael.  
  
"Mr. Marty, I'm sorry for coming into your house..."  
  
Ryan looked at Mandy before he crouched down, putting him at eye level with the boy.  
  
"I accept your apology buddy. You can come and visit me anytime, but you have to tell your mom first."  
  
Ryan lowered his voice to a loud whisper.  
  
"If you don't tell your Mom where you are, then she'll worry. It's her job to look out for you."  
  
Michael nodded solemnly.  
  
"Does your mom ever worry about you?"  
  
Ryan felt his jaw tighten. Dawn? Worry about him? Not in this life time. Kirsten? He didn't know where he stood with her. It didn't matter now anyway.  
  
Mandy noticed Ryan's discomfort.  
  
"Let's go Michael. Mr. Marty has to go to work and I have to get you and Sam to swim practice."  
  
She smiled at Ryan and led her son to the SUV.  
  
"Bye Mr. Marty... See ya later!"  
  
Ryan waved and started walking towards the bus stop, the hole in his heart getting a little bigger. Despite his resolve to never look back, he couldn't keep memories of the Cohens away.  
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Summer and Marissa sat side by side at the salon, getting their nails done. Marissa had been so distant lately. "Hell," Summer thought. "This is one of the first days she's been sober."  
  
Marissa appeared to be avoiding Summer the last few weeks, seemingly content to busy herself with parties at Holly's beach house. She turned to Summer.  
  
"Are you doing anything tonight? I mean, we haven't hung out in a while..."  
  
Summer looked up from watching the manicurist paint her nails.  
  
"What did you have in mind? A little Fred Seagal perhaps?"  
  
Marissa shook her head.  
  
"Fred Seagal's clothes suck, besides, there's something better happening."  
  
Summer raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow.  
  
"A bunch of us are getting together up in Huntington Beach. Ted's cousin has a place there. It's secluded.... There'll be lots of margs...."  
  
"Who's Ted?"  
  
Marissa smiled.  
  
"He's a guy I've been seeing. C'mon Sum, you have to come with me. You'll get to meet Ted... He's got some gorgeous friends..."  
  
Summers cell phone rang just as both girls nails were finished. She flipped open her phone, cradling it with her shoulder as she fanned her nails in front of her.  
  
"Hey Cohen... What's up?"  
  
Summer didn't miss Marissa's surprised look.  
  
"That good news, right?"  
  
She turned her back on her friend.  
  
"Okay, call me when you get there..."  
  
Summer snapped the phone shut and carefully dropped it into her purse.  
  
Marissa put her arm on the shorter girl's shoulder.  
  
"Are you and Seth still together?"  
  
Summer eyed Marissa coolly.  
  
"Does that surprise you Coop?"  
  
"No.... Well... I just thought that... You know..."  
  
"What? That I wouldn't figure out what you did? That you would try to ruin the best thing that ever happened to me, just to get back at Ryan? You'd try to take away the only family Chino has?  
  
"It's not like that Sum..."  
  
Summer stepped closer to Marissa, her rage growing.  
  
"It "is" like that Coop. You didn't get what you wanted, so you just had to make sure Ryan lost everything. You didn't care who you hurt. Not Chino, the Cohens or even me. We were friends... We were best friends..."  
  
"We still are Summer. It can be like it was before Ryan, before Seth..."  
  
Marissa started to sound desperate, but Summer wasn't buying it.  
  
"Listen to yourself... You're pathetic. What you don't realize is that Seth and I are okay, the Cohens are going to find Ryan and you have nothing..."  
  
Anger replaced Marissa's desperation.  
  
"Fine. Live out your stupid little fantasy with your loser boyfr..."  
  
Marissa got no further, effectively silenced by a vicious right hook that sent her sprawling gracelessly to the pavement.  
  
"You're the only loser Coop."  
  
Summer turned back to the salon and walked through the door.  
  
"Suki, I broke a nail..." 


	8. Chapter Eight

"Light and fluffy" has become my new mantra. There's still far too much angst happening. Storymom, Ryan's been in surgery for how many days now? Is this a testimony to the American Health Care System? Famous 99 has now added a Cranky!Ryan to her Sad!Wet!/Ryan. Connell has an Abused 8 year old , smoking cigarettes with Trey!Ryan Silverweaver has a Semi-stressed, was stuck in an elevator!Ryan and he's probably damned uncomfortable with the way his sweatshirt is twisted around his cumbersome cast!Ryan. TeacherTam has Psychoanalyzed by a Quack!Ryan who's waiting to get his slashed to the bone chin stitched up while AJ is salivating on the sidelines!Ryan. Parisindy has an Unconscious, half drowned, drip drying on a coast guard boat!Ryan. Miss suga not only has an Alone in the Hospital and owied!Ryan, she has a Jumpsuited!Seth. Sister Rose has aa I'm going to get fired any moment!Ryan. Heath 007 has a Needs a good platonic hug and some serious non sexual loving!Ryan Brandywine has Ignored!Ryan and her little hiatus needs to come to an end.  
  
I'm using snippets from "The Debut" and twisting them to fit my addled mind. Again, no copywrite infringement is intended. Josh, I had to bury the damn frog, you'll have to deal with Ratticus once again. He's awaiting your call...  
  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Chapter Eight  
  
Sandy was on auto-pilot as he and Seth checked into a room at the Holiday Inn. This would become "command central". Once they were settled in the room, Sandy called Kirsten to let her know they'd arrived safely and then called John. The investigator told him that they'd meet within the hour to discuss their next move.  
  
Seth distracted himself by folding the bedspreads and placing them in the closet. He then disappeared into the washroom. Sandy watched as his son scrubbed his hands, just as a surgeon would. He gave his father a nervous grin.  
  
"They change the bedspreads like once a year..."  
  
Sandy raised his thick eyebrows quizzically.  
  
"I saw in on 60 Minutes, dad.... I don't spend all my time watching MXC and Southpark. But enough about housekeeping standards and my TV viewing habits... What's next?"  
  
Seth was becoming increasingly restless.  
  
"Where do we go from here?"  
  
Sandy slumped into a chair.  
  
"We wait for John..."  
  
"Dad... C'mon... In three weeks he's got us as far as Ryan getting on a bus to Sacramento. Are you sure he knows what he's doing?"  
  
"Seth..." Sandy tried not to sound frustrated with his older son. Older son... That led to the assumption of a younger son.  
  
The complete acceptance of Ryan as his son had flickered over him.  
  
It wasn't forced.  
  
It wasn't thought out.  
  
It wasn't analyzed.  
  
It just was.  
  
His voice lost the edge that he'd been trying to control.  
  
"Sometimes trying to find someone means you have to look in the last places first. We know Ryan wasn't in Chino or Fresno. What we didn't know was if he was with his moth... his... Dawn. And that meant we had to find her... again."  
  
"And"  
  
"And, John found her in Reno... And no, Ryan wasn't with her. Apparently she's mourning the fact that we stole him from her."  
  
Seth exhaled sharply.  
  
"She walks out on him twice that we know of... Abandons him and now thinks we stole him?"  
  
Seth started pacing, his anger building.  
  
"She left him a fucking note in an empty house. She couldn't even stay sober long enough for him to have one decent evening with her. She couldn't even give him a lousy 4 hours and now she's saying we "stole" Ryan away from her?"  
  
Sandy reached out for Seth.  
  
"Seth... She's an alcoholic... She has a disease..." He tried to swallow back the distaste in his mouth as he said the words.  
  
"Don't give me that!" Seth raged. "SHE mad a choice. Every time she beat on him or let one of her boyfriends do it, she made a choice. There's other shit that's gone down in Ryan's life that she let happen. He wouldn't tell me what but I know it's there and it's keeping him from being part of our family."  
  
Sandy became quiet.  
  
"It wasn't just Ryan... It was me too. After all this time, I still treated him like a client. I didn't mean to, but I did and that's all that matters. If I really believed that Ryan was a part of our family; one of my sons; would I have hit him that night?" "Seth, that was my choice. I chose between you two and you won. I chose you. I didn't listen to Ryan, I didn't try. I hauled off and hit a 17 year old kid. I wouldn't have hit you..."  
  
Seth finally felt the guilt his father had been carrying. It wasn't just the fact that Sandy punched Ryan, that he hurt him... It was that Sandy Cohen, the great liberal defender of children had made Ryan think that he was nothing.  
  
He wasn't worthy of love.  
  
He wasn't worthy of compassion.  
  
He'd always be somebody's problem.  
  
Somebody's altruistic project.  
  
Never somebody's beloved child.  
  
"Dad, I fucked up too. I would have never believed a brother would have cheated with my girlfriend. It was easier to believe that a criminal from the 909 did. I didn't ask Ryan, or talk to him about what I heard, I just tried to rip his head off. He's never lied to me, he's always had my back, even when I was being a total jerk. He's always been there for me..."  
  
Seth stopped to catch his breath.  
  
"He didn't even try to fight back. I punched him and he didn't hit me back... It was like..."  
  
"We both fucked up..." Sandy interrupted softly. "Now we have to repair the damage. Make him believe he belongs with us as a member of the Cohen family..."  
  
"And a life of insecurity and paralyzing self doubt..." Seth finished, then realized how true that statement was. Shit.  
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Ryan drank the last of his water as he waited for the bus. He closed the spout of his thermos and crunched on the slivers of ice. He tried to wipe the dust and dirt from his face with the bottom of his t-shirt, but he just ended up smearing it around.  
  
The bus came and he found an empty seat near the back. He put his head on the glass and closed his eyes, trying to keep the mix of sweat and grime out of them. The job site coated him, despite the hip-waders he'd worn. Spending the last 8 hours pouring concrete between styrofoam forms to build the foundations for a complex of townhouses left him feeling like the Tin Man from The Wizard of Oz.  
  
He hated that movie.  
  
"There's no place like home..."  
  
What a load of crap.  
  
Thirty minutes later, he was off the bus. His legs felt like lead as he walked back to his apartment.  
  
His apartment.  
  
It wasn't home... He would never have a home. Just a roof over his head, a temporary shelter until the skies opened up again and shit would rain down upon his head in Biblical proportions, forcing him to move on. To move forward.  
  
It was dark by the time he let himself in the gate of the Murray's backyard. He heard the kids giggling and Mandy asking about s'mores. The family was sitting around a fire pit, enjoying a quiet evening. Ryan felt like an intruder and briefly thought of walking over to the Dunkin' Donuts, grabbing a coffee and waiting for them to finish their family time. The Murray's dog had other ideas, barking at the interloper in their yard. It came charging at him, followed by Will.  
  
"Peanut, get back here."  
  
Will grabbed the large black mixed breed dog by the collar and proceeded to put a white "wifebeater" on him. Ryan wondered if it was one of his and if it was, why were they putting it on the dog?  
  
"Sorry Marty... Peanut's just a big wuss."  
  
He noticed Ryan staring at the t-shirt. He started to laugh.  
  
"The shirt's Mandy's idea. She got tired of tripping over him at night, so he wears one of these... You want to join us? Sit and have a beer?  
  
Before Ryan had a chance to refuse, Michael came running up to him.  
  
"Hi Mr. Marty. Are you gonna watch the fire with us? Please....?" The four year old begged.  
  
"C'mon, Mr. Marty. Mom's making s'mores..." Sam chimed in.  
  
Sam. Samantha. Daughter. 7 years old... Ryan pulled the information from his mental file. Swimming lessons. Better dancer than outfielder. Loves dolphins...  
  
"Please Mr. Marty...?"  
  
Mandy laughed at her kids.  
  
Reluctantly following Will and the "beater'd" dog, Ryan lowered himself into a plastic lawn chair. Will held out a beer. Ryan hesitated before accepting. Ryan Atwood may be 17, but Marty Nevis was 21.  
  
Sam came over, holding a plate. Ryan looked at it.  
  
"It's a s'more, Mr. Marty... Haven't you ever had one before?"  
  
Ryan put down his beer and accepted the paper plate.  
  
"Thanks Sam... What exactly is it?"  
  
"It's roasted marshmallows and melted chocolate on graham crackers. Didn't you ever make them with your mom and dad when you were a kid?"  
  
Ryan just shook his head.  
  
"That's too bad." Sam replied softly. "Well, my mom makes them and they're really good."  
  
She watched as Ryan took a tentative bite.  
  
"It's great Sam, thanks..."  
  
The little girl's face lit up with a big smile. She turned back to her mom, hoping to scrounge another marshmallow. Ryan took a long sip of his beer, trying to wash the taste of the sticky chocolate goo out of his mouth.  
  
Will leaned over  
  
"Peanut will eat it... They don't mix very well with a good German lager."  
  
No sooner had Ryan put the plate down when the dog came over and devoured it. He let out a satisfied yawn and lay down beside Ryan's chair.  
  
"You've made a friend for life..." Will bent down and addressed the dog. "You suck up... Don't forget who feeds you and puts the clothes on your back..." The dog turned away and ignored him.  
  
---Don't forget who feed's you and puts the clothes on your back---  
  
How many times had Ryan heard that same sentiment? If it didn't come from his father or Dawn, then it was said by whatever boyfriend was leeching off them that month. When the money was gone, so were they.  
  
Ryan stared at the fire, trying to slow his breathing down. Watching the flames dance, he tried to fill his ears with static. He tried to block out the happy noises from the Murrays. He quickly finished his beer. Standing up, he put the empty bottle on the chair.  
  
"Thanks for the beer. I'm pretty tired and I've got an early day tomorrow."  
  
Ryan nodded at Mandy and the kids.  
  
"Thanks again..."  
  
Ryan grabbed his lunch pail, thermos and hardhat, quickly running up the stairs to the little deck on the second floor of the house. As he let himself in the apartment, he heard a little voice asking if "Mr. Marty" has a family. He didn't wait to hear the answer. He stumbled to the washroom, the "good German lager" announcing its return, mixing in with the blue tinted "Tidy-bowl" water. When he was positive the liquid barley had been purged from his system, Ryan flushed the toilet, brushed his teeth and turned the water on in the shower. He stepped out of his dirty clothes, adding them to the growing pile in the laundry basket. He'd have to go the laundromat tomorrow after work.  
  
He let the water cascade over his body, the warmth caressing his tight muscles, washing away the day. No matter how hard he scrubbed, he couldn't wash away the memory of sitting in the Cohen's family room last summer.  
  
"What if it doesn't work?"  
  
"What do you mean?" Kirsten asked, puzzled.  
  
"Well... What if something happens and you guys change your mind?"  
  
"Like what? You steal a car? You burn down a house? You beat up the captain of the water polo team? Those ships have sailed my friend..." Sandy told him.  
  
"You just have to promise us you'll stay out of trouble. From now on, no more fights..."  
  
Ryan remembered Kirsten's careful hug.  
  
He had tried his best to fit in, to stay out of trouble, but it wasn't good enough.  
  
Maybe it was better this way.  
  
He'd never have to be disappointed again.  
  
He'd keep moving forward.  
  
Leave everything behind.  
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Before some dog lover throws something at me, I know you don't give a dog chocolate. Even though I'd love to give the neighbour's dog a big piece of Callebut, it'd probably come back and crap all over my lawn. Stupid dog. 


	9. Chapter Nine

Okay, seriously, this time there is no angst. A little guilt perhaps but no angst. I'll have to make up for the "angstlessness" in later chapters. Thank you for all your reviews and comments.  
  
The characters are not mine, but I will arm wrestle Josh for ownership. I would win...  
  
Chapter Nine.  
  
Marissa looked at her swollen mouth in her review mirror again. The split in her bottom lip had already started to crust over. All the cover up in the world couldn't hide it. However, the bottle of Stoli tucked in beside the seat would help numb the pain.  
  
She couldn't believe Summer chose Seth over her. They had been friends since pre-school, bonding over teasing "Little Sethie Cohen" until he cried. Now Summer was in love with that geek.  
  
Marissa fumbled with the cap of the vodka, carefully bringing the bottle upward. The alcohol burned her throat and stung her injured lip. She tried to re-cap the bottle but fumbled, spilling the alcohol over the seat and floor of the car. She drove through a stop sign. She may not have seen the police officer, but he certainly saw her. It took several blocks before she realized the sirens were following her. She pulled off to the side of the road, partially parking her car up and over the curb.  
  
A grim-faced officer approached the car.  
  
"Can I see your license and registration..."  
  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Seth returned to the hotel room, carrying a box full of the flyers he had picked up from Kwik-Kopy. Unable to juggle the box and open the door, he settled for giving the door a couple of kicks. The noise ricocheted down the hall. His room door wasn't the only one that opened. Seth sheepishly apologized to the other guests as his father led him into the room.  
  
John Rueben was there.  
  
He opened the box and studied the flyer. Unlike the grainy mug shot the police used when they sent out the missing persons report, The Cohens used one of the few pictures they had of Ryan when he'd actually been caught smiling. He looked so at ease in the picture.  
  
Looking at the paper, Sandy remembered when the picture had been taken. Nothing special, just the family enjoying each other's company, joking about Seth's unruly hair, Sandy's liberal views, Ryan's lack of verbal skills and Kirsten's cooking. He smiled to himself. They always joked about Kirsten's cooking. Kirsten usually made the most jokes, hinting that he or Ryan should take over full time kitchen duty.  
  
Sandy ran his fingers over the picture. This was the image of Ryan Sandy wanted people to see.  
  
A real picture of a real kid.  
  
The Cohen's name and cell phone numbers were in large print, placed underneath the few sentences that described Ryan.  
  
Seth waited until John looked up.  
  
"So what do we do with these?"  
  
The investigator looked at both Cohens.  
  
"We blitz the area. Every store, every social agency, any place that will let us put these up. You two will start here and I'll head over to the outlying county."  
  
Seth didn't say anything although the phrase "needle in a haystack" came to mind. As hard as he tried to stay optimistic, he couldn't help but feel that the longer Ryan was gone, the less chance he'd come home.  
  
If they even found him.  
  
Seth needed reassurance. Reassurance that the relationship between them wasn't fucked up beyond repair. He was dangerously close to drowning in the deep end of guilt. No matter how much he tried to keep his head up and stay focused on finding Ryan, the undertow of regret kept pulling him under.  
  
Oh great, not only was he an idiot, but now he was using swimming metaphors.  
  
Seth Cohen didn't have pity parties.  
  
Yes he did.  
  
No, not really... Well okay, only when he was alone.  
  
But that wasn't a pity party.  
  
That was masturbation...  
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Summer barely noticed how fast she was driving. 80mph was now the new 70mph which was the old 60mph. At this speed, she'd be in Sacramento by midnight.  
  
Holiday Inn.  
  
Ew... but she'd "rough it" for Ryan's sake... And Seth's sake... although she'd never admit it to him. He wasn't finished his penance yet.  
  
Penance? Was that a Jewish thing?  
  
Her mind wandered to the encounter with Marissa that morning. Truth be told, her hand was sore, but not as sore as she imagined Coop's mouth was. Had Marissa always been this cruel and shallow?  
  
Had "she"?  
  
Summer knew she used to behave no better than Marissa. Her only concern was the next party and the next sale at Theodore's.  
  
The difference now was that she had outgrown all that.  
  
She had outgrown Marissa.  
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Marissa wrapped her thin arms around her torso. She'd spent the night in a cell, unable to get a hold of anyone to get her out. She couldn't comprehend the charges against her.  
  
Driving under the influence, open liquour in a moving vehicle, drunk and disorderly, drinking underage, failure to stop, resisting arrest, assault on an officer.  
  
She had vague memories of raking her manicured nails down the officer's face. The charges must be a joke. All she needed was to call her parents... someone... anyone and she'd be able to go home. This was no place for her. She wasn't a criminal, she just had a few drinks.  
  
Where the hell was everybody? Why weren't they answering their phones? Tears started to well up in her eyes. She briefly wondered if her mascara was running.  
  
It was morning now, wasn't it? Maybe if she asked nicely, the police would let her use the phone again. Hopefully, the officer she spat on last night had gone home...  
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Sandy quietly opened the door to the hotel room, his hands laden with coffee and doughnuts.  
  
The "Breakfast of Champions".  
  
He was tempted to slam the door behind him, but after Seth's little door kicking escapade the night before, he decided no to. Clearing off a spot on the table, he put the coffee down. Seth stirred from the cot they had housekeeping bring in. Summer was asleep in what was supposed to be Seth's bed.  
  
Surprise didn't even come close to describing his reaction when Summer had shown up shortly after 12, sashaying through the door. Sandy then realized that she would provide a distraction for Seth. He could see the guilt his son felt over his part in Ryan's leaving was ready to erupt, despite his attempts to quell it.  
  
He knew, because it was a war he waged with himself.  
  
Guilt was a demanding mistress.  
  
Poking and prodding, fighting for his attention.  
  
He couldn't allow himself to serve that emotion.  
  
He needed to keep focused on finding Ryan, on bringing their fractured family back together.  
  
He'd embrace his mistress later.  
  
Sandy didn't notice that Summer had gotten out of bed. She emerged from the washroom fully dressed. She "accidently" kicked the cot where Seth was sleeping.  
  
"Wake up Cohen... We've got a lot to do..." Realizing that Seth was not the only Cohen in the room, she smiled weakly at Sandy.  
  
"Sorry..." She looked at the tray of coffee cups. "Is one of those for me? It's not decaf is it?"  
  
"Uh, no..." Sandy stammered. "Help uh, help yourself..."  
  
The Cohen charm. Seth definitely inherited it from his father. Summer rifled through the box of doughnuts.  
  
"Ooh, carbs and processed sugar.... I'm in heaven..." She kicked the cot again, this time a little harder. Seth sat straight up. Pillow creases criss-crossed his cheek.  
  
"I'm up... I'm up."  
  
Seth felt as if his skull was ready to implode.  
  
"My head... It won't stop ringing..."  
  
Summer held a coffee in front of him.  
  
"It's your dad's cell phone, you idiot."  
  
"I love it when you talk dirty to me..."  
  
Seth gratefully took the coffee from Summer.  
  
"What happened to your hand?"  
  
"Rage blackout." She answered in a tone that told Seth not to ask anymore questions. She sat down on the fold-up bed. Seth took a sip of his coffee.  
  
"Are we okay... You know..."  
  
"I'll tell you what, we'll put your groveling on hold until we find Chino. Then you can make it up to both of us."  
  
"If Ryan will ever speak to me again..."  
  
Summer put her arm around Seth's shoulder.  
  
"He wasn't very talkative before, so how will you know if he's not speaking to you?"  
  
"Marissa, I can't..."  
  
Their heads snapped up as they heard Sandy speak into the phone.  
  
"Look, I'm 6 hours away."  
  
"The best I can do is call someone from my firm, but the police are not going to release you until they can get a hold of your mom or dad."  
  
"No... they won't release you into Kirsten's custody."  
  
"Marissa, just hang tight okay? I'll make some phone calls..."  
  
Sandy looked stunned as he put his phone down.  
  
"Dad, what is it?"  
  
Sandy had a hard time saying the words out loud.  
  
"Marissa's been arrested..."  
  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Yesterday, Ryan had been pouring concrete. Today he was working on another part of the jobsite, laying shingles on the plywood roof.  
  
He tried not to look down. The last thing he needed was to be razzed about his fear of heights. He concentrated on nailing down the tar paper and driving a nail to hold the row of shingles in place while Greg used a nail gun to secure them.  
  
The sun was baking him, his 'beater clung to his body.  
  
"Hey Marty.... Greg... Heads up!"  
  
Ryan caught the bottle of cold water that Roger lobbed. Greg came and sat beside him.  
  
"How's the apartment?"  
  
"It's good... thanks..."  
  
"You think you're going to stay in Carmichael?"  
  
Ryan took a lengthy sip, draining half the bottle.  
  
"I'm not sure... I like it here though..."  
  
Ryan removed his hard hat and poured the rest of the water over his head.  
  
Greg stood up.  
  
"Let's finish this up ... I hate heights..." 


	10. Chapter Ten

Ready kiddies? Everybody hold hands. We're going for a little ride.  
  
Josh, I'll give them all back to you. A little dizzy maybe, but otherwise unhurt. Don't sue. I won't be able to pay for my son's shrink bills if you do.  
  
Chapter Ten.  
  
It started to rain just as Ryan unlocked his door. He left his work stuff on the kitchen counter and went to the closet. Pulling his pay envelope out of his pocket, he quickly counted off the rent money, money for food and bus tickets. The rest of it went into his backpack, adding to the amount already there.  
  
He pushed the envelope deep into the bag, underneath a pair of jeans and then returning the pack to his closet. He briefly wondered what the Cohens did with his other backpack.  
  
With the things they'd bought for him.  
  
Things he didn't ask for.  
  
Things he could never bring himself to claim ownership over.  
  
Maybe they had been given freely, but he'd done nothing to deserve them.  
  
The things he kept in his backpack... they were his. He'd left them behind. It didn't matter. They were easily replaced, just as he could be easily replaced.  
  
Another backpack, ready for a quick exit.  
  
Sandy would find another lost cause.  
  
The pack was his only security in life.  
  
A half hour later after washing away the day, Ryan sat in a chair, eating the omelet he'd made for himself. He looked at the stack of books on the table, evidence of the vast selection from Carmichael's public library. For some reason, he'd been drawn to the science fiction section. Sci-Fi was never his type of book. He preferred things that were tangible, not one person's twisted idea of how things will be. Should be. He had surprised himself, taking out a selection from Isaac Asimov and Ray Bradbury. He picked up the top book and fanned through it.  
  
"Robot Stories."  
  
Ryan sighed and walked to the stove, turning the kettle on. Spooning some instant coffee into a mug, he then quickly washed his dinner dishes as he waited for the water to boil.  
  
Hot water plus coffee powder and a science fiction novel on a Friday night equaled his life.  
  
Welcome to Carmichael, bitch.  
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Kirsten looked around the cramped hotel room. It was going to be an interesting weekend. She pondered leaving her overnight bag in the car. Between the 2 beds, 1 cot, the small table and chairs, the dresser and Summer's jaw-dropping amount of luggage, there wasn't an empty space in the room.  
  
The thought of upgrading the room had reared its head more than once, but this was Sandy's call and she'd make due.  
  
Seth and Summer left for a much needed coffee run. The embrace in which Sandy held her ended much too soon. She didn't think he could hold her long enough. Kirsten took a good look at her husband's face. He looked worn out and haggard, but his eyes had no sign of defeat in them.  
  
Sandy Cohen did not give up.  
  
"Just be ready to cover your eyes... They're probably going at it as we speak..." Seth's voice carried through the closed door. The thought crossed both Sandy and Kirsten's mind not to disappoint their son and give him exactly what he didn't want to see.  
  
The door opened before Sandy or Kirsten could move. Summer rolled her eyes at Seth. "Why do I put up with you Cohen?"  
  
"My rugged good looks, my charm, my wit... my incredible fashion sense?"  
  
"You're delusional." She shot back, but the smile she gave Seth didn't go unnoticed.  
  
"Okay." She continued. "We've got coffee, bagels and bear claws, and before anyone touches anything, what happened with Coop?"  
  
Sandy Kirsten and Seth grabbed their coffees and sat down. Summer let out a petulant sigh, took the last coffee and sat beside Seth.  
  
"Well," Kirsten started, "Rachel finally got a hold of Julie who was spa- ing in Palm Springs. I imagine she got there around 8. Rachel arranged bail and there will be another court date next month." She took a sip of coffee. "This is not going to go away... She's in big trouble..."  
  
Sandy blew on his coffee.  
  
"Why did it take so long? Where was Jimmy?"  
  
Kirsten blushed.  
  
"Jimmy... uh... Jimmy was... uh, having his "welcome to your 40th birthday" exam at the hospital."  
  
Sandy looked puzzled for a second and then the realization hit him.  
  
"Aha.....oooh.... Poor guy."  
  
Seth was totally bewildered.  
  
"I'd like to buy a clue here..."  
  
It was Sandy's turn to blush.  
  
"Let's just say he had his tonsils examined from the end where you can't open wide and say Aaaaahhh..."  
  
Seth turned to Summer.  
  
"Did you understand that?"  
  
"Jimmy had a prostate exam and a colonoscopy. He was probably so whacked out on Valium, they could have used a garden hose..."  
  
"Summer!"  
  
"Sorry." She said, trying to look contrite. "Cosmo and Vanity Fair aren't the only magazines I read. Daddy gets the medical journals and I do look through them."  
  
There was an uncomfortable silence as everyone tried to remove the image of Jimmy Cooper and a garden hose from their brains.  
  
Kirsten was the first one to clear her throat.  
  
"Anyway, Marissa will be released as soon as Julie gets to the station and signs the papers. This is not going to go away guys.... Maybe you could offer her a little support."  
  
"For what?" Summer spat. "We wouldn't be here if it weren't for her... Ryan wouldn't be who knows where..."  
  
Before anyone could ask, Summer finished her statement.  
  
"It was Marissa who made up this whole thing about Ryan and me... She made it up to get back at him for breaking it off between them. She couldn't stand the thought of him loving you guys more than her..."  
  
She couldn't stand the thought of him loving you guys more than her...  
  
She couldn't stand the thought of him loving you guys more than her...  
  
Ryan did love them. He'd opened his heart and allowed himself to care. Sandy wouldn't allow the guilt he felt to ravage him.  
  
Seduce him. Devour him. Consume him.  
  
Later, he told his mistress... There would be time later.  
  
"Ryan loved us?" Kirsten asked quietly, making no attempt to hide her tears.  
  
Seth leaned over to his mother and hugged her.  
  
"He still does..."  
  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Ryan closed the book, having read the same page several times. As hard as he tried to keep the Cohens out of his mind, they kept invading his thoughts.  
  
Intruding.  
  
Pervading.  
  
Infesting.  
  
That part of his life was over. Seth's manic monologues, Sandy's attempts to get him surfing, Kirsten's smiles that reached her eyes when she looked at him.  
  
Fuck... He fought the urge to throw the book across the room. It wasn't his to throw. Dammit, why did he always have to try and do the right thing? That strategy never really worked out well.  
  
He swung his legs off the bed and replaced the book on the kitchen table, pacing the room... his restlessness growing.  
  
The walls of the tiny apartment were closing in on him. He couldn't breathe. Grabbing his sweatshirt and keys, he quietly stepped out to the small deck and locked the door, descending the stairs as discretely as he could.  
  
He needed to get away, to hide from the memories of what he'd lost, of what he'd thrown away. At least it stopped raining.  
  
Mandy had heard Ryan pacing. It was after midnight. Will had gone to bed and the kids were asleep. This was her "me" time. Diet Snapple Ice Tea, a pack of gel pens, a notebook to record her musings... It was her way to unwind from the day. Hearing Marty upstairs was unusual. He was quiet. Probably the quietist young man she'd ever met. Michael and Sam adored him. Will had made it his mission in life to try to get a real conversation going with him and Mandy knew he was hiding something or from someone. She saw the pain in his eyes as he observed her family, the lost look he'd get, as if he were somewhere else.  
  
Mandy's maternal instincts kicked into overdrive as she thought of Marty going out. She grabbed the dog's leash and quickly roused Peanut, who was sleeping contently in the corner. She opened the front door just as Ryan reached the end of the driveway.  
  
"Marty?"  
  
Ryan stopped and turned.  
  
"Marty... Could you do me a huge favour? Peanut is dying to go out for a walk and I can't leave the kids. Would you mind taking him out for me?"  
  
Ryan looked at the dog. Peanut let out a big yawn and settled at Mandy's feet. Before he had a chance to answer, Mandy nudged the dog with her foot and walked him over to Ryan.  
  
"I really appreciate this Marty... Thanks again."  
  
Mandy turned back to the house. Ryan looked down at the dog, attired in a wife beater, lying down on the driveway.  
  
"Nice shirt..." He flicked the leash and Peanut stood up, leading Ryan to the sidewalk. Mandy pulled the curtains back and watched them leave. She went back to the kitchen and grabbed another Snapple.  
  
This might take a while.  
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
The Cohens met with the private investigator on Sunday. They discussed strategy and the next steps to take over lunch. It was nearly 4 weeks since they'd last seen Ryan. Their son, their brother, their friend.  
  
Caleb had called, just to let them know that Marissa had been sent to a treatment facility in Oceanside for an indefinite stay, pending the outcome of her next hearing. The news was met with indifference. As Kirsten spoke with her father she realized that he didn't call to talk about Marissa, he was concerned about Ryan. He was concerned for his family and his family included a blond haired, blue-eyed boy.  
  
Caleb also informed his daughter that she would be needed in the office first thing Monday morning.  
  
"Kiki... Dammit, I wish I could take this meeting for you... I wish I could do more..."  
  
Kirsten sighed.  
  
"I know Dad, and I appreciate it, I really do. Sandy and Seth have things covered here. I might be able to re-arrange some things and come back here on Tuesday night."  
  
"Drive safely Kiki. Give my love to Seth and tell the Sandman that..." Caleb didn't finish his sentence. What should he tell Sandy? That he's an idiot for chasing away a 17 year old kid? One that he shouldn't have brought home in the first place? As much as Caleb fought it, his eyes glowed with pride as he'd watched his daughter and her new son looking over housing plans. Ryan had listened, understood, asked valid questions, absorbed the information like a sponge. One day, he would run the Newport Group. Seth would be successful at whatever he did, but the Newport Group wasn't part of his future. He didn't want it, even though he would have worked there to make his mother and grandfather happy, his heart wouldn't have been in it. He was too much like his father. Altogether, it wasn't a bad thing...  
  
"I'll tell Sandy you said hi... Love you Dad..."  
  
"Love you too, Kiki..." 


	11. Chapter Eleven

No, hell has not frozen over. Two chapters in one day. Count them... One, two... I wrote half of this while waiting at the psychologist's office for my son. Yes, the Romie family gene pool has reared its ugly head. I can't even foist the blame on Mr. Romie. He has the perfect Ozzie and Harriet family. Except they're Dutch.  
  
Yes, I know this chapter is short, but it seemed like a good place to stop.  
  
All disclaimers still apply.  
  
Chapter Eleven.  
  
Sandy forced his eyes open as he searched for his cell phone.  
  
3am.  
  
Who the hell would be calling at 3am?  
  
Oh fuck...  
  
He grabbed the phone and went out into the hallway.  
  
"Sandy Cohen..." His voice was coarse and raspy.  
  
"Sandy, it's John..."  
  
"Tell me some good news..."  
  
There was a hesitation. Sandy's heart fell.  
  
"John, talk to me...." He tried to keep the panic from forcing its way out.  
  
"I just got a call from the Sacramento PD. It's not good..."  
  
"Oh God, no..." Sandy slid down the wall and sat on the faded carpet.  
  
"I'm going to the morgue at Sierra Sacramento Valley. I'll call you when I get there."  
  
"NO!" Sandy roared, pulling himself up. "I'll meet you there." He lowered his voice. "I have to do this..."  
  
He snapped the phone closed and let himself back into the hotel room. Seth and Summer were awake and waiting.  
  
"Dad..."  
  
Sandy couldn't look at his son as he rifled through a pile of clothes.  
  
"I don't know....Seth... Please... I have to meet John..."  
  
Seth stood in front of his father.  
  
"Meet him? Meet him where...?"  
  
Sandy dodged around his son and escaped into the washroom. Summer kept Seth from following his dad. She held him tightly, fighting her own tears. Sandy emerged from the washroom fully dressed and clearly disheveled. He barely noticed the teenagers. Seth stopped his dad just as he was about to leave the room.  
  
"It's going to be okay..."  
  
Sandy enveloped him in a hug, kissed him on his forehead and then left the room.  
  
"No... It's never going to be okay again..." He whispered.  
  
He didn't know if he could do this... But he had to. Sandy took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, willing his hands to stop shaking. Somewhere between the Holiday Inn parking lot and the highway leading to the Sierra Sacramento Valley Medical Centre, Sandy felt himself detach from his surroundings. He wasn't actually aware of arriving at the hospital. He sat in the Beemer, staring straight ahead, his hands gripped tight on the steering wheel. A knock on the window brought him out of his trance. It was John.  
  
John opened the car door for Sandy and pulled the keys out of the ignition.  
  
"Hey..." He said softly. "I can do this... You can wait here..."  
  
Sandy's lifeless eyes flickered.  
  
"No," he said hoarsely. "I owe Ryan this much... I have to be there for him..."  
  
John waited until Sandy could get himself out of the car. The walk to the main entrance of the hospital seemed to take forever. The walk to the morgue seemed to take no time at all. An attendant met them. Sandy lost his ability to speak. He vaguely heard John's voice through the white noise that filled every part of his being.  
  
"Sandy... Are you ready?"  
  
Sandy's head nodded.  
  
How can one ever be ready for this?  
  
The room was cold. Sandy felt the chill cut through him. Bile churned in his stomach . A drawer was pulled open. A shock of sandy blond hair haloed the lifeless face. A face that not to long ago was strong and vibrant, but in death was a mask of unfulfilled promise.  
  
Sandy ran from the room, heaving uncontrollably in a wastebasket. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve, stumbling out the service door. He leaned against the wall, his legs holding him briefly before he collapsed.  
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Seth and Summer waited, neither speaking for fear of voicing what played in their minds. The fear of the search for Ryan ending with a 3am phone call. The fear of recrimination and the fear of facing a future broken by words of anger and acts of violence. She cradled Seth in her arms, listening as quiet sobs wracked his body.  
  
There was nothing she could say.  
  
There was nothing to say.  
  
Every minute Sandy didn't call confirmed their worst fears. She held Seth tighter. She held him closer. She held him as his sobs gave way to a fitful sleep.  
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Sandy pulled himself up, leaning his back against the brick wall. The sun was just starting to break through the clouds. His breaths came in ragged gasps. He rested his head on his knees, trying to purge the image of a young man lying cold and alone.  
  
A life ended before it had begun.  
  
John slid down beside Sandy and waited for him to compose himself. When Sandy finally looked up, John stood, holding out his hand to pull the distraught man up.  
  
"Sandy... I'm sorry... You shouldn't have had to..."  
  
"Had to what? Sandy asked, his voice now acquiring a hard edge. "Look at the body of a dead boy? Praying it wasn't Ryan? Being grateful that it wasn't? That child in there is somebody's son.... He shouldn't be alone, John... He's cold and alone..."  
  
John led Sandy to his car and helped him into the passenger seat. He leaned his head against the window, staring at the scenery as John drove him back to the hotel. He steered Sandy to the room, and guided him to a sitting position on the bed.  
  
"I'd like to be alone for a while... I'll call you in a few hours." Sandy was staring at the floor.  
  
"We'll find him Sandy..."  
  
Summer raised her head and understood the meaning of his words. Ryan was still out there somewhere, waiting to be found. She lay back down, her body relaxing. Her eyes closing. The peaceful darkness calling her.  
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
It was well after 1pm when Sandy woke again, the events of the early morning fresh in his head.  
  
He wanted Kirsten.  
  
He needed Kirsten.  
  
He wanted her strength.  
  
He needed her faith.  
  
Seth sat up, carefully untangling himself from Summer's arms. He saw his father looking at the missing person flyer of Ryan.  
  
"Dad..."  
  
Sandy looked up at the red-rimmed eyes of his son.  
  
"It wasn't Ryan... It wasn't him..."  
  
The weight was lifted from Seth's shoulders.  
  
"You better ground his ass until he's 50... Any chance of opening the mini bar? You know... Maybe a little stress release?"  
  
Sandy hugged his son for a long time. He filed away the picture of a dead blond teenager, sending up a prayer for the boy's parents. He took a deep breath and held his son a little longer.  
  
Seth didn't mind. It renewed his spirit.  
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Ryan lost himself in his work. He found it increasingly harder to keep memories of the Cohens from invading his thoughts. It was worse at night when he was alone. For the last 3 nights he'd taken the Murray's dog for a late night walk.  
  
Peanut was a good listener and best of all, he didn't talk too much. He allowed Ryan to work things out for himself. Ryan thought about calling Seth, in fact he'd dialed the number countless times, disconnecting before he entered the last digit.  
  
He had totally fucked things up with the Cohens. Walking away from a family that actually gave a damn about him.  
  
It was also at night when he felt the impact of Sandy's fist against his face.  
  
Why did it hurt so much?  
  
He had been hit harder.  
  
He'd been hit more.  
  
This wasn't the first time he'd had a black eye.  
  
Hell, he'd lost count.  
  
There were times when he could still see the bruise Sandy inflicted. It faded like all the rest , but he knew it was there. It was now a part of him, permanently scarring him.  
  
Even if he wanted to, he couldn't go back...  
  
Ryan pushed harder on the small pry bar he was using to separate a layer of improperly bonded 1/8" plywood. As he felt the veneer release, he eased the pressure on the sharp tool. The veneer cracked. Ryan lurched forward, the pry bar shooting upwards. He swore and grabbed his left hand, pulling off the work glove. He watched in strange fascination as the blood welled when he clenched his fist. Uncurling his hand, the slash opened up, bleeding freely. He wrapped his hand in the bottom of his t-shirt, soaking the light grey material.  
  
Brilliant move, Atwood.  
  
As the shock wore off, the pain came in full force. Ryan tried to stay calm.  
  
"Marty?" Greg was now beside him. "Let me see. C'mon Marty... give me your hand..."  
  
Ryan let his co-worker look at his hand.  
  
"It's okay... It's just a scratch... I'll clean it up..." Ryan didn't want any fuss. It "was" just a scratch. Nothing serious.  
  
"Sorry bud... You're going to need to see a doctor." Greg noticed Ryan's glazed eyes. "Let's get you fixed up." 


	12. Chapter Twelve

Here's the deal. I've got 2 weeks to update as much as possible before I enter the 7th circle of hell until Labour Day. By the way muchtvs, camping is not, I repeat not, a vacation. Especially with kids. Especially with kids that want their medicated mother to make crafts with them. Especially with kids that want their medicated mother to make crafts with them and their friends. Especially with kids that want their medicated mother to make crafts with them and their friends in between cooking gourmet meals that does not include Kraft Dinner. This is my fault though, I bring a waffle iron when I camp.  
  
Josh, be nice or I'll make you go camping with me. I have ownership over my behaviour only. Everything else belongs to someone other than me.  
  
Chapter 12  
  
Jim Matthews studied the paper on his desk. He compared the pictures.  
  
One black and white.  
  
A police mug shot.  
  
A teenaged boy, a bruised face, a lost, vacant look.  
  
The second one, full colour.  
  
A teenaged boy, no bruises, a smile on his face.  
  
Two pictures. Two different boys but one and the same. Ryan Atwood, not Marty Nevis. 17, not 21.  
  
Missing...  
  
Last seen...  
  
Contact Newport Beach Police Department.  
  
Contact John Rueben Investigations.  
  
Contact Sandford Cohen.  
  
Jim remembered the quiet young man he met almost a month ago. A young man that would barely look him in the eyes. A boy who tried to remain invisible.  
  
Jim was torn. He knew he should call the Newport P.D.. Ryan/Marty was a minor Someone was looking for him, but someone had hurt him. He looked at the picture of a smiling blond haired, blue-eyed boy once again. He closed his eyes and bowed his head as he prayed for wisdom.  
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Ryan watched impassively as the medical resident examined his hand.  
  
"I think you got pretty lucky... There doesn't seem to be any nerve damage. I'm just going to get the boss to double check your hand before I stitch you up..."  
  
Ryan nodded, not taking his eyes from his hand which still bled sluggishly. The doctor pressed a wad of gauze in his palm.  
  
45 minutes, 22 stitches, a tetanus shot and a prescription for Tylenol 3's later, Ryan was discharged. He was surprised to see Roger still there.  
  
"You didn't have to stay..."  
  
Roger shrugged.  
  
"Maybe, but I wanted to... You okay?"  
  
Ryan held up his bandaged hand.  
  
"Still attached... still works..."  
  
"I'll take you home..."  
  
Ryan shook his head.  
  
"I need to stop by billing and get this settled..."  
  
"I took care of it Marty... It was just paperwork."  
  
"I can't let you..."  
  
Roger cut him off.  
  
"Look, all employees are covered by insurance." He held out a plastic card. "This is yours... I forgot to give it to you last week when it came in."  
  
Ryan took the card with his good hand. A Blue Cross card in the name of Marty Nevis.  
  
"Thanks."  
  
Roger smiled. "Let's get you back to your place before you fall over on me..."  
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Sandy's mind wandered as he, Seth and Summer drove to another social agency. They had already gone to two different shelters. Ryan hadn't been there. He didn't want to think of how the boy was supporting himself. The thought of his son selling himself made him sick. Sandy knew it wouldn't have been the first time Ryan had been used.  
  
Did the boy think he was just a commodity? Goods to be bought and sold?  
  
He tried to keep the tears from falling. Sandy pushed those thoughts into the dark recesses of his mind. It was too painful. He could hear his mistress calling to him. Seth's voice was a grateful distraction.  
  
"There's a youth center 4 blocks from here. We can check it out before we head back to the hotel."  
  
"Okay..." Sandy answered softly. "You navigate."  
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Ryan was relieved the Murrays weren't home. He couldn't deal with their concern for him right now. Roger climbed the stairs behind him, taking the keys from his shaky hand and unlocked the door.  
  
"I don't want to see your face for the next couple of days. Take it easy and I'll call you Wednesday to see how you're doing..."  
  
Ryan looked down at the floor, the brown carpet seemed mesmerizing.  
  
"Marty?"  
  
Ryan lifted his head.  
  
"...Sorry... Thanks for everything..."  
  
"Take your pills. Get some sleep. I've got night duty at the mission, so if you need anything, you can get a hold of me there."  
  
Roger knew he wouldn't get a phone call. The kid's hair could be on fire and he wouldn't ask for help.  
  
Ryan nodded, too tired to do anything else.  
  
As Roger closed the door behind him, Ryan bent down to untie his boots, swallowing back the dizziness. After 2 pills and half a glass of water, he dialed 9 digits of a 10 digit phone number, not finding the courage to complete the call. He couldn't even bear to listen to the messages that now filled the voice mail box. He didn't want to hear how he fucked everything up and that the Cohen's were glad he was no longer their problem.  
  
His last bit of energy was spent struggling to remove his dirty clothes and to throw on a pair of sweats. His last conscious thoughts were of the throbbing in his left hand reminding him to add another mark to the fuck up scorecard and that he should really get his ass off the bed to lock the door. Yeah, right.  
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Roger put the papers back down on Jim's desk. He didn't know what to say. He looked at the mission director.  
  
"So now what?"  
  
Jim shook his head.  
  
"I know I have to call either the police, the investigator or this Sandford Cohen, but you saw Marty, uh, Ryan when he got here... Someone did a number on his face." Jim picked up the black and white report. "It's not the first time he's been used for target practice... How was he when you left?"  
  
Roger smiled.  
  
"He was ready to drop. If he took his pills, which I have no doubt he did, he'll probably sleep for the next 12 hours... He cut himself pretty good." Roger straightened up. "Enough stalling. You have a phone call to make..."  
  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Sandy picked at his chicken parmesan. Normally he was a big fan of the parm, but eating was the last thing on his mind. The youth center was a dead end, but at least Ryan's picture and information was posted in the office.  
  
He was fed up of the sympathetic looks and the platitudes. He wanted his kid. Seth was withdrawing into himself more each day, despite Summer's presence. His normally exuberant son was now becoming more like his silent one. He watched as Seth took a piece of chicken for a ride around the plate. Summer just moved her food from one side of the plate to the other. Maybe it was time to send both of them home. This whole thing was tearing Seth apart. Hell, it was killing all of them.  
  
The sound of Sandy's cell phone brought annoyed looks from the other diners. He quickly lowered the volume of the ring and left the table, stepping outside the restaurant.  
  
"Sandy Cohen..."  
  
"Mr. Cohen, I'm Jim Matthews, Chaplain with the Salvation Army Citadel in Carmichael. I received the missing persons report on Ryan Atwood..."  
  
"Do you know where he is...? How is he?" Sandy asked anxiously, pacing back and forth. "We've been looking for weeks..."  
  
"Mr. Cohen, please... let me finish..."  
  
Sandy didn't want to let him finish. He wanted answers. He wanted to reach through the phone and shake the information out of the man. He put his hand over his own moth to keep it from moving. The Chaplain took the silence as permission to continue.  
  
"I received the missing persons report today. Who are you in relationship to Ryan?"  
  
Sandy removed his hand from his mouth.  
  
"I'm Ryan's law...lawyer..." he stammered and then regained control of himself."And I'm his guardian. Is he alright? Where is he...?"  
  
"Mr. Cohen," Jim could hear the concern in Sandy's voice. "Marty, uh, Ryan is fine. He's in Carmichael..."  
  
"Is he really okay?" Sandy's frustration grew. He wasn't getting the information fast enough. "Have you seen him?"  
  
"Maybe we should meet first. Where are you?"  
  
Sandy swallowed hard. He didn't want a fucking meeting.  
  
He just wanted his kid.  
  
To see him.  
  
Hold him.  
  
Tell him how sorry he was.  
  
"I'm in Sacramento. We've been looking for him for the last month..."  
  
"Okay look... Carmichael is about 12 miles from Sacramento. Head north on 80, take the first exit after Rancho Cordova, turn left, straight through the next set of lights, make a right on Griffith, another right on Lazlo. There's a Rosie's Café across from the mission. I'll meet you there... What time works for you?"  
  
Sandy looked at his watch.  
  
"I'll be there in half an hour..."  
  
He snapped his phone shut. His heart was racing, his brain was on the verge of overload. He hurried back into the restaurant. The table had been cleared. He looked around and saw Seth waiting by the entrance.  
  
"I took care of the bill... What's next?"  
  
"Where's your other half?"  
  
"She went pee..."  
  
"Seth, don't say pee."  
  
"I'm sorry dad. Summer felt the need to empty her bladder. To eliminate the urine her kidneys produced..."  
  
Summer came out of the washroom, shaking her still wet hands.  
  
"Ew... There's no paper towels in the ladies room."  
  
Seth put his arm around her shoulder.  
  
"Summer, please tell my dad where you were..."  
  
Summer raised an eyebrow in his direction.  
  
"Cohen, I told you. I had to pee."  
  
Seth looked at his father.  
  
"I rest my case. So, what's up?"  
  
There was no mistaking the hope in Sandy's voice.  
  
"Road trip..." 


	13. Chapter Thirteen

My, my, my. You guys are getting demanding. Thank you so much for all you reviews and encouragement. I trust you'll protect me if Josh sues my ass?  
  
Chapter Thirteen.  
  
Sandy set the cruise control and watched for the exit ramp. He was another step closer to Ryan and fixing the mess he'd made.  
  
"So dad, where exactly are we going and why are you driving like an old lady?"  
  
Sandy kept his eyes on the road.  
  
"Carmichael and no I'm not..."  
  
"Why...? And you're driving like the Nana..."  
  
"I'm meeting someone who knows where Ryan is and my mother doesn't drive..."  
  
Seth leaned as far forward as the seatbelt would allow.  
  
"Is that what the phone call was in the restaurant? She drives you crazy..."  
  
"You're right on both counts..."  
  
Summer shook her head.  
  
"Okay, I need a programme to follow along here."  
  
She realized that neither Sandy or Seth would say anything else. Seth was holding her hand and staring out the window. Sandy turned off the highway and followed the directions Jim had given him.  
  
Now he sat in another parking lot, afraid to enter a building.  
  
He sat in the Beemer, staring straight ahead, his hands gripped tight on the steering wheel.  
  
Afraid that this was false hope.  
  
Afraid it wasn't the right boy.  
  
Still grateful that a boy who lay cold and alone wasn't Ryan.  
  
Grieving for the parents of a boy who had lain cold and alone for 2 days before his parents found him.  
  
"Dad?"  
  
Sandy pulled the keys out of the ignition.  
  
"I can do this... You can wait here..."  
  
Seth's eyes flickered.  
  
"No." He said hoarsely. "I owe Ryan this much... I have to be there for him..."  
  
It was a familiar conversation.  
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
The café was busy. Sandy scanned the room, but he had no idea who he was looking for. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a man stand up.  
  
Short-sleeved white shirt, small insignia on the collar, black pants.  
  
He looked like a member of God's Army.  
  
Jim found the last empty table before the Cohens arrived. He had spent the previous 25 minutes in prayer, mentally preparing himself for the meeting. He had been in this situation before.  
  
A lost boy. Worried Parents.  
  
Three months later, a dead boy. And parents charged with second degree murder.  
  
He had questioned his faith after that, believing he was at fault. Believing the guilt that gnawed away at him and turning away from what had always been his source of strength and comfort. The peace he had felt when others prayed for him, praying for months when he was too weak to do so himself lifted him from despair, opening his eyes and his heart once again.  
  
The memory of the young man stayed with him and gave him the fortitude to carry on with his work, his mission, his calling.  
  
Sandy Cohen was easy to spot. He was a man surviving on sheer will to find his lost son, the missing piece of his family. He looked exactly as Jim had pictured him.  
  
Disheveled. Anxious. Exhausted.  
  
He waved the man over and seeing 3 people walk towards him, he was glad he had the foresight to grab a table for four. The Captain held out his hand.  
  
"Mr. Cohen... I'm Jim, Jim Matthews... I'm the director of the Men's Mission..."  
  
Sandy shook the man's hand. Jim gestured for all to sit down. He felt Sandy's eyes burn into him. A pleading stare of worry, fear and strain.  
  
"Please... Can you tell me where Ryan is? Is he safe?"  
  
Sandy spoke quickly, quietly, but there was no mistaking the concern in his voice.  
  
"Ryan is fine... really. He's been working construction for a friend of mine. He has a small apartment. He's doing well."  
  
Relief was evident not only on Sandy's face, but on Seth and Summer's as well. Sandy closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, Jim could see the tears in them.  
  
"Thank-you." Sandy whispered. He reached over and squeezed Seth's arm before pulling him into a hug. The captain watched the interaction, making mental notes. A minute later, Sandy regained some of his composure. Summer leaned into Seth, communicating her love and support with her hand in his.  
  
"I'm sorry, Mr. Matthews..."  
  
Jim waved Sandy off.  
  
"Call me Jim."  
  
"I'm sorry Jim... This is my other son Seth and his girlfriend, Summer."  
  
Seth offered a tight smile. Forget the formalities. Where the fuck was his brother?  
  
A waitress brought 4 mugs of coffee to the table along with a small bowl of individual creamers. Jim cleared his throat.  
  
"You mentioned on the phone you're Ryan's lawyer and his guardian?"  
  
Sandy nodded.  
  
"I met Ryan a year ago... He was a client... My wife and I gained guardianship of him after his mother abandoned him. His father and older brother are in jail..."  
  
Sandy took a sip of his coffee.  
  
"What happened...? Why did he leave?" Jim was careful. He knew Sandy didn't have to tell him anything. That legally, he was required to tell Sandy where Ryan was, but he knew that the other man was struggling over the event that caused a 17 year old boy to run.  
  
The rest of the coffee sat untouched while Sandy told what had happened the night Ryan left. He offered no excuses for his behaviour, he blamed no one but himself for what transpired. Sandy's guilt was compounded as he relayed that Ryan had come from an abusive background and that he had behaved no better that the other males in the boy's life.  
  
Jim could see that Sandy's remorse was genuine. He wasn't worried for his own well being, but for the son he'd driven away. Seth had been quietly stacking the cream containers, making little towers out of plastic. He finally excused himself, unable to listen to what he had been a part of that night. Summer went with him and together they sat on the curb facing the parking lot. No words were necessary and none were spoken.  
  
Jim watched as Sandy's eyes followed Seth and Summer. He stood until he could see where the two of them sat down outside. He lowered himself back into his chair, shifting positions until he could still see them through the window. Sandy reached for his coffee, now cold. The waitress quickly replaced his mug with a fresh one, stopping to refill Jim's empty one.  
  
They sat quietly, lost in their thoughts.  
  
Jim had listened carefully to Sandy, holding on to every word. Sandy didn't try to justify what happened that night. He didn't try to shift the blame or offer lame explanations why he lost control. He didn't gloss over the details of assaulting Ryan. He didn't downplay what he did. The fact that Sandy couldn't answer why he reacted the way he did made Jim believe that this was a one time incident. A horrible night where one man lost control and it very nearly cost him his family.  
  
Perhaps it still had.  
  
Ryan might not want to go back home.  
  
Sandy didn't need anymore burning coals heaped onto his head.  
  
He needed to reach out to Ryan, to fix their relationship.  
  
Jim had seen the empty look in Ryan's eyes, but what his heart was telling him was that Ryan/Marty needed the Cohens as much as the Cohens needed him. He pulled a card from his shirt pocket. He had already written Ryan's address on the back. On the front of the card was his name, the address of the Citadel and the mission, plus the phone numbers where he could be reached.  
  
He slid the card towards Sandy.  
  
"This is where Ryan is. He's not too far from here."  
  
He quickly drew a map on a clean napkin.  
  
"He had a little, uh, mishap at work today."  
  
Jim saw the look of concern on Sandy's face.  
  
"He's fine... A few stitches in his hand..."  
  
"Stitches?"  
  
Jim smiled.  
  
"I'll let Ryan tell you. Don't worry, okay... don't worry "more"... Just go and see him..."  
  
Sandy shook the man's hand again and took the bill from the table, folded it in half, tucked a $20 bill inside and handed it to the waitress.  
  
Jim watched as Sandy gathered up Seth and Summer, hugging them both. He sent up words of thanks and requests for a successful reunion. As he felt the familiar feeling of peace settle over him, Jim knew that tonight would only be the first step of many needed to bring that family together again.  
  
It was Summer who suggested she and Seth take a cab back to the hotel. She knew Sandy had to do this by himself. Sandy wasn't fond of the idea of sending them back on their own, but it was almost 9:30 and if he drove them back to Sacramento and returned this way, it would be close to 10:30 before he'd see Ryan.  
  
He couldn't wait that long.  
  
He'd waited long enough.  
  
Sandy stayed with Seth and Summer until the cab arrived. He watched as it drove away before getting into his car. He could feel his heart pounding harder as he neared the address Jim gave him. He drove past the house, his courage fading.  
  
Dammit.  
  
This wasn't about him.  
  
He turned the car into a driveway and backed out, parking across form the house. The apartment. The place Ryan now called home.  
  
He could do this. This was his responsibility. His duty as a father.  
  
Sandy knocked on the front door.  
  
No answer.  
  
He knocked again, louder.  
  
Nothing.  
  
He looked once more at the card he was given. The apartment was located in the rear of the house. He walked back to the driveway and moved towards the gate. A set of wooden stairs led to a small deck.  
  
Standing on the small deck, Sandy looked at the door.  
  
The door that separated him from Ryan.  
  
He closed his eyes and knocked softly.  
  
He opened his eyes and knocked again.  
  
He knocked once more and turned the door knob, startled when the door opened. Stepping in, he closed the door behind him.  
  
"Ryan? Ryan... It's me, Sandy..."  
  
There was just enough light filtering through the window from the neighbour's backyard for Sandy to see inside.  
  
Ryan was asleep on the bed, the blankets tangled in his legs.  
  
He saw the bandaged hand.  
  
He saw the prescription bottle on the nightstand.  
  
He saw the cell phone they had given Ryan.  
  
He looked back at the bed.  
  
He saw his son. 


	14. Chapter Fourteen

I am so disappointed in muchtvs. I really thought she'd have my back if Josh ever decided to sue my ass. No way, no how. I'm on my own with my trailer, my waffle iron and my assorted crafts. Just to let you know "much", I also bring a blow torch to cook with when I camp. I'm not afraid to light a fire under your caboose...  
  
I know it's a short chapter, but that's all I could come up with in the light of muchtv's betrayal. I'm so not feeling the love. sigh  
  
All disclaimers are claimed.  
  
Chapter Fourteen.  
  
Sandy spent the night on the kitchen chair, watching Ryan sleep. He managed to send a text message to Seth, letting him know that he was going to stay the night. He would have loved to call Kirsten, but he was afraid any extra noise would wake Ryan up. The fact he'd stayed asleep so far had more to do with the pain pills than his ability to sleep soundly.  
  
Sandy reflected on what the Salvation Army Chaplain had said to him. Not pithy sentiments but things to really consider.  
  
Sandy now realized that he could never give Ryan his childhood back. He needed to swallow the fact that Ryan never had one. He was now a young adult.  
  
Ryan wasn't Seth. If Seth had ADHD, he'd be the poster child. He had to accept that Ryan was more introspective, whether because of his nature or a trait acquired for survival purposes, this was who he is. He didn't need to be fixed. He needed to be accepted for himself.  
  
It was also in Ryan's nature to help and if he did it as an attempt to repay the Cohens for what they did for him, they should let him. Allow him to feel he's contributing to the family.  
  
The last bit of wisdom Jim imparted was directed at him.  
  
"You know, it was pretty humbling for me when I realized I couldn't save the world, but I might be able to save it one kid at a time..."  
  
Sandy recognized that Ryan had brought just as much into their lives as they had to his. These last weeks proved to him that the family had been incomplete prior to his joining them.  
  
The sad thing?  
  
He hadn't realized it before now.  
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Kirsten spent a sleepless night in Sandy's hotel bed. Seth called her right after getting Sandy's message. Kirsten called her father who told her he'd make sure all the meetings were rescheduled and the job sites visited. The Newport Group would not fall apart while she took care of her family.  
  
She had been more than a little shocked to find Seth and Summer in bed together. Seth's rambling explanation of falling asleep while watching tv rang true when she saw the Crest White Strips taped to both of their teeth. The empty box and wrappers littered the floor. The maternal death glare she leveled at Seth sent him scrambling out of Summer's bed and back into his own.  
  
His lonely cot.  
  
By himself.  
  
There would be no sex in the "Champagne Room..."  
  
Sandy found Ryan...  
  
He was in the same room with their son. Not just a legal relationship between them and a teenaged boy, but their son.  
  
The first time she had laid eyes on Ryan she locked away her feelings. She wouldn't allow herself to become emotionally involved with a child felon, no matter how polite he was. No matter of his inability to look at her directly.  
  
He wasn't her son.  
  
She added an extra lock on her heart when she found Seth in the pool house, drunk and beaten up. She wanted the delinquent out of her house.  
  
He wasn't her son.  
  
She felt a key trying to open the lock when she saw that he had made breakfast for them, even though he knew she'd told Sandy to take him back to Chino. He knew he didn't belong there. He'd only set the table for 3 that morning.  
  
He wasn't her son.  
  
Admiring the model of the home she was building, signing away his identity, accepting the new one assigned him by the state.  
  
0382965.  
  
Telling her it's okay.  
  
He wasn't her son.  
  
The fire at the model home, his coming back and taking responsibility for it.  
  
He wasn't her son.  
  
The fire scared her, just as it scared her when she witnessed Ryan putting himself in harm's way to protect her and her son when Seth talked her into visiting him in juvie.  
  
Unlocking her heart and bringing him back to her home.  
  
He wasn't her son.  
  
He had a mother.  
  
They needed to find her.  
  
To give back her son.  
  
Realizing the boy had nothing. Not even a change of underpants.  
  
Bonding over small talk, her heart breaking when he told her that all he wanted to be was 17. Said in such a way that made her think he didn't' believe it was a realistic goal.  
  
His mother didn't deserve a son.  
  
A half-hearted attempt to dismiss years of guilt. A drunken night. A failed escape attempt.  
  
A final abandonment.  
  
He was now her son.  
  
She couldn't imagine him not being with them. This last month had been a nightmare for all of them. She had wished the world would have stopped moving so she could find her son and bring him back home where he belonged.  
  
Her son. Sandy's son. Seth's brother. Her two sons.  
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
The curtains fluttered as the damp breeze blew through the open window. The rain had started again, falling hard. Ryan groaned and rolled over, his throbbing hand signaling the need for pharmaceutical relief.  
  
Through his pain filled haze, he could make out the shape of someone slumped in a chair. His heart started beating faster. He tried to slow his breathing.  
  
Fuck.  
  
His mind had been so conditioned to perceive all unknown shadows as impending threats that his body automatically responded in panic.  
  
That was his weakness to overcome. His Achilles heel.  
  
He struggled to untangle his legs from the twisted blankets.  
  
"Ryan?"  
  
He kicked his legs harder, the blankets refusing to release him.  
  
"Ryan... It's okay... It's only me..."  
  
Sandy leaned over to turn on the light on the nightstand, trying to avoid the flailing limbs.  
  
Ryan closed his eyes at the intrusion of light.  
  
"It's alright... It's me, Sandy..."  
  
Ryan opened his eyes again, only to snap them shut.  
  
"What the hell are you doing here?"  
  
"Good to see you too..." Sandy deadpanned.  
  
Ryan succeeded in freeing his legs and stood up quickly, keeping the bed between him and Sandy.  
  
"Why are you here?"  
  
Sandy stepped forward. Ryan stepped back.  
  
"I'm sorry... I screwed up..."  
  
Fuck.... I can't deal with this right now, Ryan thought.  
  
He moved from behind the bed.  
  
"I want you to come home... Ryan.... Please.... I'm so sorry...."  
  
Ryan clenched his fists. He could feel the pull of the stitches. Memories of the night in question came flooding back.  
  
The accusations. The pain. The emptiness as he walked away, realizing that nothing in his life would change. It might be dressed up a little more, wrapped in a more expensive package, but it was the same shit and it always rained down on him.  
  
Not anymore.  
  
"I am home..."  
  
Ryan walked out, closing the door behind him.  
  
What brought Sandy Cohen back to reality was the way the apartment door closed quietly. It was almost inaudible. He sat down on the bed and buried his head in his hands, his elbows digging into his thighs.  
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Mandy watched as Ryan walked down the driveway, his t-shirt and sweatpants were already soaked. She had heard the hushed exchange between "Marty" and another man.  
  
There were no secrets in an old house. Ancient air vents made sure of that.  
  
Marty wasn't Marty.  
  
He was Ryan, and he was hiding from something or someone.  
  
Her "Mama Bear" instinct as Will called it was coming out in full force. She made sure the kids were safely asleep in their beds. Will was working the midnight shift and wouldn't be home for a couple of hours.  
  
A low growl caused Sandy to look up. His eyes focused on a large black dog.  
  
A large black dog in a white wife beater.  
  
Why was Ryan sharing his wardrobe with a dog? 


	15. Chapter Fifteen

So not only does muchtvs not have my back, but she's telling Josh to sue me first? I don't know what illegal substances she's been smoking but unless she's talking monopoly money, then I'm broke. My favourite son's shrink bills are $145 per week, $30 of which is covered by Mr. Romie's work insurance. The little beggar is also playing ice hockey and needs goalie equipment because in Canada, if your kid doesn't play hockey then you are the world's worst parent and your kid is subject to endless ridicule. An example of the expense for a 13 year old goalie? How about a $70 jock. Yes, a $70 jock, because that's one piece of equipment you don't want to buy used. So my dear, sweet Josh, sue muchtv's ass. American money is worth so much more than our poor battered loonie. By the way much, sweetie, I also bring a blender when I camp because you just can't make a decent iced cappuccino without one...

She's right though Josh, I am medicated. It's Friday night, it's my anniversary, Mr. Romie is working the midnight shift, I'm eating cold Indonesian rice with chicken and double salted licorice. Do you really want to sue me? I'll share the licorice with you.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Chapter Fifteen

Sandy stood up, finally taking his eyes off the dog.

"I'm Sandy Cohen... I've been looking for... Ryan, uh, Marty... He's my, uh... I'm his..."

"I'm Amanda Murray. If you've been looking for Marty, what are you still doing in here?"

Sandy felt his anger rise.

"Look Ms Murray... Hell doesn't even come close to describing the last four weeks. I don't need you to tell me..."

"Yes you do..." Mandy stepped into the apartment. "If you've been looking for him all this time, I'll ask you again. Why are you still in here?

Sandy was beyond exhausted. His reasoning skills were pretty much shot and the last thing he needed was an argument with a woman whose hair was the colour of an eggplant and a dog wearing an undershirt. Where the fuck were they hiding the hidden camera? This was just too surreal.

"He walked out on me..."

Mandy turned on the light and stepped closer. Her hair really was purple...

"So now you're throwing a temper tantrum? This isn't about you. Put your ego back in your pants. You can have your pissing match later..."

She was right. It wasn't about him. He knew that. Sandy reached for his jacket.

"Down the driveway and turn left... He always seems to turn left."

Sandy nodded and rushed past her to his car, the rain pelting him. It only took a few minutes to catch up to Ryan. Sandy honked. Ryan ignored him, walking faster. He swore and put the car in park. He hated the rain.

Albert Hammond was right. It never rained in California. It poured. Man, it poured.

He caught up to Ryan, grabbing him by the arm, and stopping him. Ryan wrenched his arm away from Sandy.

"What do you want from me...?"

Sandy lost his resolve.

"I want... I want you to listen to me... I want to make this right... I want to get out of the fucking rain..."

Ryan took a step back.

"You can't always get what you want... Let's just end it here, okay? Your little social experiment failed..."

"It was me. I failed. I failed as your lawyer, I failed as your guardian, I failed as your father..."

Ryan turned and started walking away again.

"Ryan!"

"Ryan!"

Ryan stopped and looked at Sandy, grateful that the rain and his tears were indistinguishable.

"You don't get to walk away from us again..."

Sandy felt his cell phone vibrate. He would have ignored it but he knew who was calling. He pulled the phone from his pocket, opened it and held it out to Ryan.

"Talk to Kirsten... You owe her that much..."

Ryan crossed his arms over his chest. Tightly. Feeling as though if he didn't, his legs would give out on him.

"So all this talk about family and fatherhood is just a load of shit, because now you're telling me I "owe" you? This is just fucking unreal..."

Sandy took a few steps forward.

"You owe us nothing... Just talk to Kirsten, let her know you're alright... Can you do that for her...? She's been worried sick..." Sandy lowered his voice. "We all have..."

Ryan hesitated before he took the phone.

"Hey..."

"I'm okay... Really..."

No... It's not going to work out..."

"Kirsten... Stop... I'm sorry..."

"I didn't think you'd worry..."

Sandy couldn't hear what Kirsten was saying to Ryan, but whatever it was, was breaking down the boys defenses.

"Yeah, okay... Yeah..."

"I'll talk to him..."

Ryan looked up at Sandy.

"Kirsten, I promise... I'll listen... Yeah... Tell Seth he can call me if he wants.... It's up to him... Yeah, I still have it... I'll answer the phone...

"Okay... Thanks..." Ryan whispered before he handed the phone back to Sandy.

He moved away as Sandy spoke to Kirsten. He knew Sandy would freak if he went too far, so he sat down on the curb waiting for him to finish. He began shivering. Ryan leaned forward and wrapped his arms around his knees. He didn't even have shoes on. He closed his eyes.

"Ryan..."

He looked up and saw Sandy with his hand extended. He held out his good hand and allowed Sandy to pull him up. He said nothing to his lawyer on the two block ride to his apartment. His only thought was what their soaked clothes was doing to the leather interior of the car. This time Sandy pulled into the Murray's driveway. Ryan exited the car and ran up the stairs to the apartment. Sandy was right behind him.

"Get in the shower and change into some dry clothes. I'll take a look at your hand when you're done..."

"I don't need you to look after me..." Ryan snapped.

Sandy remembered Amanda's words regarding a pissing match. He just wasn't up to the challenge.

"Fine... I'm sorry... Kirsten will have my ass in a sling if you end up with pneumonia. I'm just trying to save myself from some heavy duty wrath..."

"I'll look for something you can change into..."

Sandy shook his head.

"Don't worry. I've got some stuff in the trunk..."

Noting Ryan's look he explained. "Try sharing a hotel room with Seth and Summer. It was just easier to keep most of my things in the car."

Ryan gave him the smallest hint of a smile and locked the washroom door behind him. As soon as Sandy heard the water running he went out to the car and grabbed his suitcase.

He really hated the rain.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Seth was starting to bounce off the walls, unable to sit still. His non-stop monologue was driving Kirsten and Summer crazy. They both knew it was his way of coping and Kirsten would rather have a pingy Seth over a withdrawn, sullen Seth any day. She already had one brooding son.

Kirsten knew that finding Ryan was only half the battle. The real struggle would be to convince him to come home with them. She was overjoyed when she heard his voice, telling her he was okay. She wouldn't fully believe it until she saw him and wrapped her arms around him. She didn't care how uncomfortable it made him. She was going to hug him and then yell... Maybe not yell... Okay, just a little...

She thought back to when Ryan told her that he didn't think she'd worry about him.

What was he thinking? That they would open up their hearts and their home to him and then at the first bit of discord, kick him to the curb? She thought they had made it clear to him after the Oliver incident. He was a part of their family and than meant in the not so pleasant times as well as the good times.

She realized that's exactly what he'd been thinking. Despite the love she felt for him, he was constantly afraid they would throw him out.

Just as his mother had done.

Instead, he left.

Just as his mother had done.

It was all he knew.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sandy rolled his wet clothes in a ball and put them into an empty grocery bag. He rummaged through the kitchenette cupboards looking for something to warm them up. Cup a Soup and instant coffee.

It would do.

Ryan emerged from the washroom, still soggy, but wearing dry clothes. He opened the T-3's, shook 2 pills out, swallowed them and chased them with the glass of water Sandy handed him. He had re-wrapped his hand after his shower. The edges of the cut looked a little red and swollen. Ryan squeezed some Poly-sporin onto a clean gauze pad, pressing it down before winding the white bandage around it.

He didn't need Sandy to look at it.

He was a big boy.

He had the boxers to prove it.

Ryan sat down on the edge of the bed. Sandy passed him a mug of yellow liquid.

"My mother would kill me if she saw me serving you chicken sweat..."

"Your mother doesn't have to find out..."

He bit down on a still dehydrated piece of chicken... At least he hoped it was chicken. He didn't want any conversation right now. Especially with Sandy. He wanted to be alone with his mug of crunchy poultry perspiration and figure things out on his own. But he promised Kirsten he'd listen to what Sandy had to say.

Sandy sat down in a chair across from Ryan. He had a mug filled with instant coffee. He then realized what Ryan had accomplished. He had a job, an apartment and food in the fridge. He did it on his own. Sure he had some help along the way, but he had done it. He "had" taken care of himself.

He drew a deep breath.

"Ryan... I know I screwed up... I broke every promise I made or implied. I..."

"Forget it Sandy... It's over... Talking isn't going to change what happened. We all know it wasn't going to work, so now you're off the hook..."

Sandy stood up and put his coffee down. How could he make this kid understand?

"Families take work... It doesn't just happen. Hell... that's why there are a lot of wealthy shrinks out there. We're human and we're hard wired to screw up, but we also have the capacity to care, to love and to protect.

"And look how well it's turned out? Doesn't matter... I'm better off on my own..."

Sandy knew he had to be careful.

"You've made a new life for yourself and maybe you don't need us, but we need you... We want you..."

Ryan stood up as well, cramming his hands into his pockets.

"Why do you care? He asked softly. "I'm just the kid you brought home, the one whose own mother didn't even want..."

Sandy shook his head.

"I don't know why. All I know is, I do... Kirsten does... Seth does..."

Sandy let a moment of silence pass.

"Do you have any idea what it was like? Getting a phone call at three in the morning, telling me there's a kid matching your description in the morgue? Praying it wasn't you... Making promises to God that I don't know if I'll ever be able to keep so it wouldn't be you...? Relieved that it wasn't and then feeling like a real shit-head because I was grateful that it was someone else's kid and not you lying there?

Sandy closed his eyes at the memory that was forever seared in his brain.

Ryan started to pace.

"I didn't mean to put you through that... This whole living in Newport thing... It should have been easy... but it's not. A year later, I'm still the kid from Chino who burned down your wife's house. I want to move on from my past, but I can't. Here... I'm Marty Nevis. Nobody knows me and I like it. People don't look at me like I'm going to steal their car. They don't hang onto their purses like I'm going to grab them. It's like... I can breathe... I don't have to fight to prove I deserve to be here..."

Ryan pulled his hands out of his pockets. Despite the pain pills, his hand still throbbed and it started to feel like it was burning.

"Okay..." Sandy replied quietly.

"Okay what?" Ryan was unsure. "You'd let me stay...?"

"If letting you stay means I could still be a part of your life, that Kirsten and Seth could be as well, then yes, I'll let you stay... I'll do anything to keep you in my family... Even let you go..."


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Hmmm. I'm too bitchy right now to write something cute here so I will forgo the usual witticisms and continue to console myself with my bag of "dropjes". Nysha my love, dropjes and double salted licorice are one and the same. Salted black licorice. Double salted. It's a Dutch thing, an acquired taste so to speak and not for the faint hearted. It's actually from Mr. Romie's stash but he's not here. Finders keepers.

The disclaimers still apply.

Chapter Sixteen.

Sandy knew letting Ryan stay in Carmichael was the right decision for him. It wasn't the right decision for the family though. What Ryan said about living in Newport, about not being accepted, he understood.

He had lived it.

Even now, there was enough of Orange County's self-proclaimed elite that believed he was merely riding on Kirsten's coat-tails and Caleb's generosity. His law degree didn't matter, the fact he worked his way through university, surviving on scholarships for tuition and part-time jobs for daily existence wasn't of importance. He was an outsider and would always be one.

For Ryan, it must have been so much worse. Sandy heard the snide remarks and nasty comments that were made about Ryan. Even in his own home, where these people ate the food he paid for, drank the booze he bought.

No wait, the food Kirsten paid for, the alcohol she bought. He contributed nothing to the family. Hell, Jimmy Cooper, even after stealing millions and borrowing $100,000 from Kirsten, told him that he had no idea what it was like to provide for a family.

Providing for a family was all about Chanel, Prada, luxury cars and alopeciac ponies named China. Those were the important things.

Remembering what he had gone through when he and Kirsten first moved to Newport with 6 year old Seth, he knew Ryan was right. He was always fighting to prove he deserved to be there, living in an upscale zip code, attending an elite school where the focus was more on tax bracket than academic achievement.

For some people, there was no Ryan Atwood, just some delinquent living off the kindness of Kirsten Nichol, waiting to steal from her.

To ruin her life.

To finish what Sandy Cohen, formerly of the Bronx, started.

Now he sat in his car, the rain easing up, afraid to face his wife and his son because they couldn't understand, they couldn't know what it's like not to belong anywhere.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Mandy knocked for the third time. She would have given up but she knew Marty/Ryan was in there. Sandy Cohen had left a few hours ago and the apartment had been quiet since. Her "Mama Bear" instinct was still in full force, maybe more so because there was no 21 year old "Marty". He was Ryan and he was 17.

The door opened, revealing a scruffy,sleepy, teenaged boy.

"I'm sorry Marty, um, Ryan... I didn't mean to wake you."

"'S'kay" he mumbled. "C'mon in..."

After his vision cleared he noticed Mandy's purple hair. Her very purple hair. She caught him staring at her.

Don't every buy cheap hair colour from Wal-Mart..." She smiled at him.

"Yeah, I'll keep that in mind."

There was an uncomfortable pause.

"So, what do you want me to call you?"

Ryan flexed his sore hand, trying to ease the stiffness. Despite the pills it still hurt. It still burned.

"Ryan's good. Sorry about the whole "Marty" thing... It's just... It's complicated..."

"Are you okay?"

Ryan nodded.

"So you'll be staying here?"

Ryan nodded again, still surprised Sandy allowed him to remain.

"That's good. I want to let you know that we're heading out for a week. I was wondering if you could watch Peanut for us. Given the choice, I'd rather take the dog and leave the kids, but Will's parents wouldn't be too happy with me." She caught Ryan's look. "I'm kidding about leaving Sam and Michael. If you'd be willing to hold down the fort, we'd forgo the rent while we're gone, if that's alright with you."

"Sure ... Uh, you don't mind if I have company do you?"

Mandy raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"Not like that... Um, it's just now that the Cohens know where I am they'll be coming by and uh, Seth, he's their son... and we've got a few things to work out..."

Mandy could see Ryan getting uncomfortable with sharing too much information.

"That's not a problem. So, I'll leave you a set of keys for downstairs. You can put the mail in the front hall. I'll bring Peanut's stuff up here."

"'kay... When are you leaving?"

Mandy was tempted to make a joke about Ryan wanting to get rid of them but she knew in his state he wouldn't see the humour in her statement.

"Will's sleeping right now. I've told the kids when their dad sleeps during the day it's because he's really a vampire. It keeps them quiet and out of trouble..."

She knew she was rambling. She hated when she did that. She needed to say what she came to say.

"The Cohens... Are they good people?"

Ryan looked directly in her eyes and smiled. His first real one in weeks.

"Yeah, they really are."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Sandy, what were you thinking? I'll tell you what you were thinking... You weren't! How could you let him stay there? He's still a minor. We're responsible for him. You should have made him come back with you. He's our son..."

Sandy was surprised that Kirsten was taking the news as well as she was. He had imagined her ripping off his "appendage" and beating him with the wet end of it. Seth and Summer were wisely staying quiet. He knew Seth would have plenty to say when his mother was finished.

"Kirsten, I don't want to "make" him come back. I want Ryan to "want" to come back. If we drag him kicking and screaming to Newport we'll lose him for good. This way, we can come up on weekends, Seth could drive up and they can hang out... He's a good kid, Kirsten. He wants to do something with his life, but it's got to be on his terms."

Kirsten understood that Sandy made the right decision, but it didn't make it any easier to accept. She wanted the fairy tale ending. She wanted the "happily ever after". She wanted both her boys home.

Sandy knew he was safe from physical damage to his "personality" when he saw Kirsten's shoulders relax. He pulled her into a hug.

"I want to see him" she whispered. "I want to see he's okay, that he has a safe place to stay, that he's taking care of himself..."

"Part of the deal was that we go out for dinner tonight. We'll pick him up around 5 and you can see his apartment. He's doing well here. He really is..."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Seth and Summer had quietly left the room. He couldn't understand why Ryan wouldn't come home. Sure, he listened to what his dad said, but still...

"It's going to be alright Cohen. Chino just needs to figure things out... He'll come home."

Seth slouched into a vinyl chair in the lobby of the hotel. His guilt was paying him a return visit.

"No. I did this to him. I turned on my best friend and now he won't come back."

Summer gracelessly flopped in the chair beside him.

"Get over yourself Seth. It's not about you anymore. There's a whole lot of shit Ryan needs to work out. His mom walked out on him twice. You don't just get over it." Her voice softened. "I know what it's like, to have someone walk out of your life..."

She paused, letting her words sink in.

"This whole Oliver thing messed with his head. Oliver mind fucked him, Coop played him for nearly a year. He had to figure out how to deal with being part of a family where people actually give a shit about him. Something like this was probably going to happen sooner or later. It's better that it happened now, because if he was 18, your parents wouldn't have been able to do anything about it. He'd be gone for good..."

Seth closed his eyes. Summer was right. She was right about everything. The hardest thing for Ryan had to have been dealing with the family. Dawn never cared about him. She threw him out. She let her boyfriends beat on him whenever they felt like it.

Then again, so did he. Seth Cohen, who'd never hit anything except his pillow, punched his best friend. His dad, Mr. Pacifist, hit the kid he brought home, wanting to take him away from all the violence that had surrounded him. They weren't any better than his "real" family.

Summer poked him.

"Don't get all sulky on me Cohen. You can't change what happened. You fix it and move on. You heard your dad. He said you can drive up and hang out."

"It's not going to be the same..."

Summer leaned over and took Seth's face in her hands, gently forcing him to look at her.

"No it's not, but it can be better than it was. Ryan will forgive you, but you have to forgive yourself as well."

Seth kissed her.

"Boobs and brains... I am a lucky, lucky guy."


	17. Chapter Seventeen

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Bitchy and Cranky is back. I need a vacation from my "vacation". Oh, yeah. That's called work.

All disclaimers... yadda, yadda, yadda.

What chapter is this? Hopefully it's number 17 because that's what I'm calling it.

Chapter Seventeen.

Ryan fidgeted nervously while waiting for the Cohens. He had bussed it over to Wal-Mart to pick up a shirt to wear for dinner. He was now the proud owner of a navy blue golf shirt. At least he looked presentable. Letting himself back into his apartment, he noticed Peanut hadn't moved. In fact, the dog barely raised an ear as Ryan opened the door.

That was a good sign.

He wasn't up for a lot of talking.

He'd save the conversation for later.

The pulsating ache in his hand intensified again. The pain never really went away, but when it got bad enough that he couldn't ignore it any more, he knew it was time to medicate. After swallowing the caplets, he removed the bandage from his hand. He gingerly pressed down on the red slash. It seemed to be straining against the stitches. His palm looked bruised. Small red pin dots were surrounded by purple lesions. It didn't look good. He'd have it checked out at the walk-in clinic in the morning.

Despite the fact that the sun had been shining most of the afternoon and it was quite warm outside, Ryan shivered. He was still cold from his little walk in the rain with Sandy. Maybe another shower would help.

That'll work.

Shower.

Re-wrapping his hand.

Half hour later... Thirty minutes. 1800 seconds. Ryan was dressed in a pair of jeans and his new shirt. He started fidgeting again, trying to come up with a plausible excuse for backing out of seeing the Cohens.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Summer had left for Newport, deciding that the Cohens didn't need her around for their reunion with Ryan. Her work was done. After a week of "roughing it" in a Holiday Inn, she was in desperate need of a good spa treatment.

She earned it.

She called her dad to let him know she was coming home. The surprise in his voice made her realize he hadn't noticed she had been gone.

Yeah, she knew what it was like to have someone walk out on her.

She also knew the truth.

Just because someone didn't leave... didn't mean they stayed.

She hung up the phone and flicked away a tear. Summer Roberts didn't cry. Not for herself, anyway.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The Range Rover was uncharacteristically quiet as the Cohens drove to Carmichael. Sandy was trying to formulate a plan to get Ryan to realize he needed to come home with them. Kirsten absently played with her wedding ring, twisting it around her finger. Seth was staring out the window. Apologize first, hug second? Hug first, apologize second? Forget the hug, because, well, that was a little minty? Stand back and wait to see if Ryan acknowledged him?

Fuck.

15 minutes was not enough time to figure all this out.

Ryan's continued pacing didn't faze the dog. Peanut lay there, watching him trying to formulate a plan to get the Cohens to realize he didn't need to go home with them. He played with the edges of the bandage, twisting it with his fingers. Ryan was now staring out the window. What to do about Seth... Apologize first, hug second? Hug first, apologize second? Forget the hug, because, well, he didn't hug. Hugs were too close. Hugs invaded his personal space. Should he stand back and wait to see if Seth acknowledged him?

Fuck.

The Cohens would be there any minute. Definitely not enough time to figure all this out.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Ryan barely had the door open when Kirsten pulled him to her. She hung onto him like she wasn't about to ever let him go. He wasn't sure how to respond. He could feel her tears seep into his shirt. Awkwardly, he put his arms around her. He didn't know what to do next. Wait for Kirsten to let go? Should he let go now? Isn't there a manual for this hugging stuff somewhere? Ryan glanced at Sandy, his eyes relaying his questions.

"Kirsten... honey... Ryan needs to breathe..."

She gave him one more squeeze before she stepped back, quickly wiping her eyes. She reached up and ran her fingers through his short hair.

"It's so short." She smiled. "And blonder too"

"It's easier to keep under a hard hat..."

Seth stepped out from behind his father. Everything he wanted to say came out in two words.

"I'm sorry."

Ryan looked at Seth.

"I know."

"We good?"

Ryan nodded.

"Yeah..."

Seven words. Seven words and a relationship was on the mend. A friendship would endure. Seven spoken words. Hundreds left unspoken. They'd come later. Everything was understood. All could be forgiven. Seth was hopeful.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Kirsten watched as Ryan moved his food from one side of the plate to the other. She watched as he would open and close his bandaged hand. She watched as he tried to hide the pain.

She listened as Seth talked non-stop. She listened as Ryan spoke about his job and the Murrays. She even laughed as she listened to the reason for the dog wearing a white undershirt.

She heard what Ryan didn't tell them. His feelings of grief at the thought of losing the new start they'd promised him. His anger at the accusations. His acceptance of the physical violence that night. Almost as if he was expecting it. She could hear him rationalizing it, just as he'd done with his mother. Her boyfriends.

She heard everything he didn't tell them.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Ryan wasn't sure what to say when Sandy told him Seth could stay with him for a couple of weeks.

"That sounds cool, but I'm back to work Wednesday or Thursday..."

"Not to worry Ryan my man, I'll spend my days doing my summer reading and we can tear up the town when you're finished work."

Ryan looked at Sandy and Kirsten before answering Seth.

"This is Carmichael. Just about everything closes at six. Besides, I don't have very much space."

"Dude, you camped out in my room for a while when Theresa was staying in the pool house. I'll sleep on the floor. You won't even know I'm there..."

Ryan gave Seth a sideways glance.

"Don't make me beg... It's not a pretty sight, but I will resort to it if I have to."

Seth watched as Ryan leaned back in his chair. Victory was his and he didn't even break a sweat. Ryan, on the other hand had small drops of perspiration beading on his forehead. Kirsten noticed it as well. When she first saw Ryan he had looked so tanned, but now his bronzed skin had a definite grey tinge to it.

"Are you okay sweetie?" She wanted to add that she could see he didn't look well, but wisely kept the information to herself.

"I'm fine... Just a little cold. I must be sitting under the air conditioner."

Kirsten smiled at him, not believing a word he said. Sandy looked up. There was no vent. If anything, the restaurant was on the warm side. As Seth prattled on about the social activities he was planning for himself and Ryan, the Cohens studied him. His eyes were starting to glaze over. Sandy noticed bruising on Ryan's hand that wasn't there that morning.

"What exactly did you do to your hand anyway?" Sandy kept his tone light, trying to hide his concern.

Ryan clenched his fingers and then released them before answering.

"Pry bar. It slipped. Doctor said I'm fine. No real damage. Just a few stitches..."

His tolerance for conversation was waning. While he was glad to see the Cohens, he was tired and feeling agitated.

His change in mood didn't go unnoticed.

"Why don't we get out of here?" Sandy said a little too cheerfully. "We can make a stop at a department store and pick up what Seth needs and then drop you guys off. Is there someplace close by we can pick up an air mattress?"

"Yeah, uh, there's a Wal-Mart not too far from here..."

Now that they were leaving, Ryan's unsettled feelings died down. He exhaled slowly, offering a small smile to the Cohens.

"Thanks for dinner... This was... is... nice."

Kirsten knew Ryan meant every word. It was one step closer to home.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Seth and Ryan opted to stay in the Rover while Kirsten and Sandy went into Wal-Mart. Ryan shifted slightly, leaned his back against the door and wrapped his arms around his chest.

Why the fuck was he so cold?

He wanted to close his eyes.

He wanted to sleep.

He knew Seth wanted to talk.

Verbal communication was highly over-rated.

"Why didn't you call?" Seth asked softly. "Mom and Dad... Well... I've never seen Dad so scared. He was a wreck. Mom too... I know I totally fucked up..."

"It's over. I don't need to talk about it." Ryan said somewhat impatiently.

Move on.

Move forward.

Don't look back.

No baggage, no regrets.

Those were his survival skills. They always worked before.

"If it had been anyone other than Marissa telling me that you were sleeping with Summer, I wouldn't have believed it..."

"Marissa? What the hell are you talking about?"

Not a step backwards, just coming to a standstill.

Seth swallowed hard and drew his knees to his chest, the heels of his well worn Converse runners digging into the leather seat.

"That night... when I uh... when.... Marissa told me that you and Summer had been... uh... sneaking off together to uh... you know..."

"And you believed her?" Ryan's anger grew. The agitation he felt earlier had returned, growing inside. He fought to keep it in check.

"The only thing Summer and I did was drive around to comic book stores. That's all!"

Ryan's voice became low and foreboding.

"I would never do anything like that... I'd never hurt you."

Seth held his knees tighter, trying to protect himself from Ryan's building fury.

"I know... I was stupid... I'm so sorry..."

"Yeah, you said that already." Ryan snapped.

The tension had almost a physical presence. Both boys were quiet.

The painful silence was broken by Ryan opening the car door, walking away as he slammed it behind him.


	18. Chapter Eighteen

Next time I go camping, I want a pool boy. Wait, there are no pools. How about a beach boy? Nah, they're getting kind of old. A trailer boy? A Trailer Park Boy? Hell, no. I'm not that desperate. I must be tired. I think only my fellow Canadians will understand my love for Bubbles.

I'm not too sure what I mean either. It's good to be back though.

I know this chapter's short. My brain stopped working in Bobcaygeon.

Chapter Eighteen.

"Kirsten..." Sandy reached into the cart, pulled out the sheet set she'd just placed in there and put it back on the shelf. "All Seth needs is an air mattress, sleeping bag and a pillow. That's it. Nothing else."

She leaned in behind her husband, retrieved the sheets and put them back in. This time, she added a down filled comforter as well.

"They need linens and towels..." Kirsten wheeled the cart into the next aisle. As she absently dropped oven mitts, tea towels and throw pillows in, Sandy quickly took them out, returning them to their proper places.

"We should pick up a tv..."

"Honey, stop.... Please?" He put his arms around her shoulders, drawing her to him.

"I know you want to make things easier for him, I really do. If I thought it would help matters, I'd buy out the whole store, but Ryan needs to feel like he's doing this on his own. Maybe if he realizes that he can do things himself, it'll make it easier to accept us. Remember 18 years ago? An old mail truck? It made it easier to deal with your dad once we knew we didn't need him..."

Kirsten shook her head and pushed the cart forward.

"Ryan needs us. He's 17 years old. He needs a stable home. He needs parents. He needs to go to school. He needs..."

Sandy stopped the cart and took Kirsten's face in his hands, turning her head gently so she'd look at him. Tears glistened in her eyes. Sandy's voice was soft.

If Ryan does this on his own, it'll make him feel less like a charity case..."

The tears in Kirsten's eyes were replaced by anger.

"Ryan is not a charity case. Why would he think..."

Kirsten noticed the shoppers that stopped to listen to their conversation. She and Sandy were starting to draw a crowd.

"This is just foreplay." Sandy stated loudly. "The real action won't start until we get home..." He openly leered at Kirsten, enjoying watching her face flush. Their audience quickly scattered, leaving them alone again.

He became serious.

"I don't know if it's so much that Ryan thinks that, actually, he called himself "our social experiment", but it's how he believes the community sees him. He told me that here, he's not the kid from Chino whose mother dumped him. He's not the kid who burned down a model home. He's not the kid whose father and brother are in jail. No one looks at him and sees where he came from. They see him. They see what we see. A bright, hardworking young man who has his whole life ahead of him. They get to see the real Ryan Atwood, someone whom we've only seen glimpses of..."

Kirsten processed what Sandy said. He was right. He was right about people's attitude towards Ryan. She had pretended not to hear the comments and the snide remarks. Had they subconsciously made Ryan feel like someone's unwanted pet? A stray they had picked up? She hoped not. Once she took him into her heart, he was her son. The circumstances of his arrival didn't matter to her. Sure, they shaped who he was, but like Sandy said, Ryan was a bright, hardworking young man whose gentle spirit was shrouded by a tough exterior.

Everyone else could go and fuck themselves.

"So, no X-Box..."

Sandy smiled at his wife, once again reminded why he was so in love with her.

"Not if you want him home sooner."

"Okay, no electronics, no linens. But we are stopping at the pharmacy and picking up something for his fever. Something nasty tasting. Something that will teach him not to walk around in the rain..."

Sandy raised a substantial eyebrow. Kirsten laughed and kissed him.

"I want Ryan home as soon as possible.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Ryan... Wait... Come on, man..."

Seth was relieved when he saw Ryan stop at the vending machines in front of the store. He caught up to him just as Ryan was trying to drop coins into the machine. His hands were shaking. Seth gently took the coins from his brother, slid them in and pulled out a bottle of cold water. He opened it and handed it to Ryan. He watched as Ryan drained the contents. Wordlessly, he dug around in his pockets for more money. He opened another bottle of water, holding it out to Ryan before opening his own.

"Thanks..." Ryan mumbled.

Seth nodded and decided to keep his mouth closed as they walked back to the Range Rover. Ryan sat down on the pavement, his back against the car and took another sip of his water. Seth sat down beside him and noticed the shaking had subsided.

"You okay?" He asked casually, trying not to sound worried.

Ryan shrugged.

"Yeah..."

He rolled the bottle between his hands.

"Marissa told you Summer and I were fooling around?"

Seth nodded again, letting Ryan do the talking.

"Shit..." He looked at Seth. "Sorry... I should have called..."

Seth stared straight ahead.

"You shouldn't have left."

Ryan started peeling the label off the Dasani.

"Didn't think I had a choice..."

"Mom and Dad were scared. Dad was a basket case. We've been looking for you ever since you left. Even hired an investigator. Dad took a leave of absence from work to find you..."

"Didn't have to... I'm fine..."

Seth swallowed hard and looked back at Ryan.

"Don't you want to come home?"

Ryan stopped shredding the label, but he didn't look at Seth when he answered.

"I like it here. I have a job. I have my own place..."

"What about school?"

"I can always get my GED."

"What about us..."

Ryan looked at Seth.

"You guys don't need me. I just live in your pool house..."

"Do you really believe that?" Seth retorted. Why the hell couldn't Ryan see he was a Cohen? An Atwood by name but a Cohen in spirit. "You think you're just our pet delinquent? That every home should have one? If we wanted a pet, we would have picked up a Rottweiler or a Shizt-hu... Maybe a couple of hamsters. Come on Ryan, you know the 'rents aren't impulse shoppers..."

Seth let his words sink in. He could almost see the gears turning in Ryan's brain. That was enough for tonight. He still had some time to work on Ryan before school started.

Ryan finished off the last of his water. Despite drinking over a litre of liquid, he was still thirsty. He could feel the sweat running down his back. The heat was stifling. How could Seth just sit there? Oh yeah, his people wandered the desert for 40 years. Heat didn't bother him.

"Hey guys, ready to go?" Sandy was pushing a Wal-Mart buggy and Kirsten had her arm linked in his.

Seth was disappointed not to see an X-Box. Ryan was relieved not to see an X-Box. Or a tv. Or anything else Kirsten thought he might need. He hauled himself up, his face stoic as pain shot up his arm. His hand was burning. His fingers felt stiff. He could barely bend them.

"Yeah, I'm ready..."

Ryan held his good hand out to Seth, pulling him as he got to his feet.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Kirsten kissed Ryan's cheek and forehead, surreptitiously checking his fever. He was very warm and looked exhausted.

"Make sure you take the ibuprofen for your fever. The pharmacist said it was okay to have them with your Tylenol.

"I'm fine... really. Just a little tired...."

She gave him one more hug. The heat emitting from his body worried her. She felt uneasy about leaving. She'd be calling tomorrow morning to check up on him.

Blinking back tears, Kirsten turned to Seth and hugged him.

"Watch out for each other." She whispered to him.

"I will." He whispered back. "I'll call you guys tomorrow..."

"Hey... Heads up!" Sandy said loudly, throwing a small box at Ryan. Ryan caught it easily with his right hand. He looked at the package and then back at Sandy.

"It's a battery operated air pump for the mattress. It'll be easier than blowing it up."


	19. Chapter Nineteen

This chapter is dedicated to our beloved storymom/smc, who needs the "fluff" and the "funny". I'll do my best to give you both, my love. I know I said I'd have this up for you on Wednesday, but a funny thing happened to me. Well not to me, but.... See, my favourite son went camping last weekend and came back with a mild case of poison ivy. (Not the first one he's had this summer, actually he just got over a case of it.) He was scratching his legs so naturally he got the rash on his hands. By Wednesday night, the poor boy had a rash where no one EVER wants to get poison ivy.

Yeah, and I'm such a mean bitch because I thought it was funny. I just want to know who he was fantasizing about when he was "entertaining" himself. Hee!

Oh, by the way, all legal disclaimers apply. All copywritten characters will be returned unharmed. A little dizzy perhaps, but relatively intact.

Chapter Nineteen.

While Sandy, Seth and Ryan were inflating the air mattress and unpacking Seth's things, Kirsten covertly checked through the cupboards, making sure there were enough groceries for Ryan.... And Seth. She closed a cabinet door, relieved to see that yes, Ryan did have food and no, she didn't find any cigarettes. There had been no tell-tale scent of tobacco in the small apartment, just a faint smell of pine cleaner.

Kirsten was relieved that Ryan had taken care of himself, but relief and sadness were waging war. She was relieved that he "could" make it on his own and sad that he "knew" how. She wondered how many times Ryan, Dawn and Trey stayed in shelters. The thought of Ryan as a boy, not knowing where he'd sleep at night, not knowing if he'd eat that day, brought tears to her eyes. Kirsten closed them, blinking back the tears.

How must he have felt when Sandy hit him.

How shattered he was, listening to Seth hurl angry accusations at him.

Everything Ryan didn't say at dinner tonight echoed in her mind.

Now he had moved on. He'd left them behind.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Ryan could feel his heart beating angrily, a frantic rhythm pounding in his chest. He slipped away from Seth and Sandy, locking himself in the washroom. He leaned over the toilet, leaning on his good hand to keep him from falling over.

Fuck...

His stomach refused to co-operate. He wanted to puke. He needed to puke. His breathing was fast and uneven. His head was ready to explode. Spots oscillated in front of his eyes, a kaleidoscope of shapes and colours melding into white noise that assaulted his ears, then swirling, only to separate and start over.

As quickly as it started, the overpowering sensations vanished, the dizziness and nausea stopping for now. His heart was still in overdrive and his breathing hadn't slowed, but the worst was over. Ryan spat into the toilet, pushed himself up, flushed and washed his hands and face. He looked at his pale reflection. He just wanted to be left alone and go to sleep.

Ryan knew he'd feel better if he could just get some sleep.

He opened the door and exited the washroom, ignoring Kirsten's worried look. He'd put up with Seth for a few days and then send him home.

He just wanted to be left alone.

Why couldn't they see that?

Sure, there were times when he missed the Cohens. Dinner was nice, but all he wanted was his solitude.

Being alone meant a lot less hassle.

No one to let down.

No expectations.

No one to answer to.

He wouldn't have to always keep his guard up.

No one to disappoint him.

Ryan's brain was screaming at everyone to leave him the fuck alone. His face showed nothing as he sat down on his bed.

The blank look and rapid breathing startled Kirsten. She had been observing Ryan since he came out of the washroom. She watched as he cradled his tightly clenched hand to his chest. She was fighting her maternal instincts to go over to him, but if she did, Ryan would only withdraw deeper into himself.

Silently, the dog wandered over to him and butted his good hand with its head. Ryan absently scratched Peanut behind his ears, the action visibly calming the boy. The dog lay it's head on Ryan's lap as a well calloused hand stroked its head. Ryan's breathing slowed and he started to relax. The frantic pounding of his heart had eased up somewhat, his chest no longer felt like it was being crushed. He unclenched his fingers. His hand ached, pain shot up his arm.

"Tell them...."

A quiet voice form deep within told him. It was the same voice that told him to stay, the night Sandy had... Seth.... Shit hit the fan. The voice that told him that it was all a misunderstanding and things would work out. The voice that nagged him to call the Cohens.

His inner voice.

The one that needed to shut the hell up.

The painful spasms ended and Ryan carefully flexed his fingers. That felt better. He looked up to see Kirsten watching him. He offered her a weak smile.

"Hand cramps up once in a while... I'm fine..."

He resumed petting the dog, hoping she'd believe him.

Kirsten sat on the bed beside Ryan. The heat radiating from him hadn't abated and he was still alarmingly pale. She gingerly reached for his bandaged hand and gently turned it over. His fingers were bruised and swollen. Purple welts were now evident on his inner wrist and forearm. He pulled his hand from hers.

"I'm okay... really... The doctor said that some bruising was to be expected..."

Ryan tried to sound convincing.

He just needed to get some sleep.

Why couldn't they see that?

The agitation was churning up again. Ryan swallowed it back. Peanut let out a low growl, tell him he was being too rough. Ryan looked at the dog and used his finger tips to gently rub right above Peanut's eyes. The dog sighed contently and closed his eyes.

Kirsten didn't believe Ryan. Not at all. He was too warm and no matter how hard he tried to hide it, he was in a lot of pain. The worst thing she could do right now was to ignore her instincts, but she had too. In order to salvage the relationship with her new son, their new son, she had to step back and allow Ryan to come to them.

"Okay..." She whispered. "We should probably let you get some sleep... You've had a long day..."

Ryan nodded but his eyes said "Thanks for understanding." Kirsten realized that Ryan's eyes really were the windows to his soul. He may never say very much, but his pale blue eyes would always talk to them. They just needed to listen.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Seth stood up and flexed his biceps.

"Yes... We are victorious! The air mattress is fully inflated and ready for sleepage. Pretty impressive, huh?"

Ryan smirked.

"It's right on up there with lawyers and their light bulb changing abilities."

Sandy's head shot up.

"Hey, I heard that... I'll have you know that I changed a light bulb. It was one of those long ones... What are they called?"

"Fluorescent." Ryan snidely answered. "And you didn't change it. I did. You just about fell off the ladder trying to put the wrong end of the tube into the fixture..."

The room became quiet. An innocuous memory. One that drove home the point that the family was not yet whole again.

Kirsten stood up and reached for Sandy's hand, squeezing it.

"We should go and let the boys get some sleep..."

"Sleep? Mom! It's barely 9 o'clock... The night's still young. It's Tuesday night in Carmichael. There's got to be a mondo party somewhere.... Right Ryan?"

"Seth, give it a rest..." Sandy had kept his tone light, but Seth knew he was in "Danger, Will Robinson" territory.

"Alright. I'll make sure "Bob the Builder" over there goes "nighty-night" as soon as you leave..."

Sandy raised an eyebrow at his older son. Seth put a finger to his lips in a self-shushing action. Ryan stood up to say good bye to the Cohens. The room started spinning and he felt himself leaning to one side. He regained his balance and willed himself to stand straight.

"Got up too fast..."

Every part of her being screamed at Kirsten to get Ryan to a doctor, even if she had to drag him there. She stepped closer and hugged him tightly.

"Promise you'll see a doctor tomorrow?"

Ryan moved his head in a half nod. It hurt too much to move it anymore than that.

"'kay..."

She forced herself to let him go, wrapping her arms around her ribcage, almost as if she were trying to restrain herself from taking Ryan with them.

Sandy awkwardly held out his hand. Ryan hesitated, then quickly shook it and pulled back.

He didn't let his disappointment show. He knew the betrayal Ryan was feeling was still too fresh. Maybe having Seth stay wasn't such a good idea after all. Emotions were too raw.

"Will you guys go already? Seth/Ryan time is going to start." Seth said with a smile. A smile that didn't reach his eyes. Seth/Ryan time. Fuck, he was nervous.

Sandy gave Seth a hug and told him to stay out of trouble. Kirsten held her curly haired son, quietly whispering for him to keep an eye on Ryan and to call them if he seemed worse...

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

As soon as the door closed, Ryan slumped down on his bed. His heart had starting pounding so hard again, that he was sure Seth could hear it.

Why the hell was it so cold in the apartment?

Seth turned to face Ryan.

"Ryan, uh..."

"Can you take Peanut out for a walk? He needs to do his... business..."

"Yeah, sure.... I...."

The bags are under the sink so you can clean up after him. His lead is by the door..."

The nausea returned full force. Ryan pulled himself of his bed and stumbled into the washroom, locking the door again. He could feel the cold sweat running down his back as he leaned over the toilet again. His body shook as the dizziness consumed him.

Ride it out.

He'd done it before.

It wasn't the first time he'd ever been sick.

It's just no one had ever cared before.

As if on cue, he heard Seth.

"You okay... Ryan...?"

"Yeah... Can you just take the dog...?"

After a moment, Seth answered quietly.

"I'll be back in a while.

A groan from the other side was the only response.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The ride back to Sacramento was quiet. Sandy and Kirsten were lost in their own thoughts. Sandy worried that his relationship with Ryan was permanently damaged. The boy's demeanour with him was distant and detached, much like their first meeting in juvenile detention last year. Another life time. He was worried how his sons would deal with each other.

His sons.

His boys.

Seth and Ryan.

Damn, he wanted them home.

Kirsten knew Ryan would never hurt Seth. He had proved it by walking away that night. Yes, he left them, but there was no doubt that Ryan could have easily beat Seth up after Seth had hit him. Ryan didn't. Ryan wouldn't. She knew he wouldn't run again. She wouldn't let him slip away this time.

Kirsten was scared though. Ryan was sick and she was 20 minutes away. She'd never do that to Seth. When he was sick, she'd be there for him, hovering, turning into June Cleaver. It's what her mother did when she was sick...

Maybe it was just a virus.

A simple cold.

One Ryan had before his little romp in the rain that morning.

Nothing serious.

A good night's sleep and he'd be fine.

It's just a cold.

Kirsten closed her eyes.

She wanted her family together again.

Damn, she wanted them home.


	20. Chapter Twenty

I'm way too tired for this. Please excuse any typographical errors. It's a short chapter but it sets up the next one. Again, it's light and fluffy, just for Storymom. She's all about the fluffy.

Josh, my paycheque sucks, but I'll give it to you if it means I can keep your characters... I think I've addressed all legal disclaimers ad nauseum.

Oh, I've "borrowed" bits from "The Pilot, The Debut, and The Outsider". You'll recognize the lines.

Chapter Twenty.

"So... I totally screwed up. No... Really... I fucked everything up. I still can't wrap my head around what Marissa did. I mean, she could care less about me. Why would she do this to Summer? Her best friend... Why would she do this to Ryan? They were friends.... I don't know how "good" friends they were but... Oh, you done? Nothing to scoop? That's a relief... I guess you've noticed I'm not really a dog person..."

Seth swore Peanut rolled his eyes at him before tugging on the lead, propelling Seth forward.

"What do you think? Yeah, I know I talk a lot and don't really say much. Ryan says he thinks I talk just to hear my own voice. That would be true if I had a really cool voice, like, say, Russell Crowe, you know, the Aussie accent and all. I think my voice is a little nasally. It's these damn adenoids... Anyway... So how do I fix this? Ryan says we're good, but I know he's pissed at me... And at Dad... Maybe if I buy him a car... No. I haven't got the Bar Mitzvah funds for that. A Harley? Yeah... I could see Ryan on a Harley... Not that I could afford one of those either. A used Vespa, maybe? Nah... he's definitely not the Vespa type..."

The dog abruptly stopped. Seth looked down at him.

"What?"

The smell hit him.

"Oh man... That's just rude... Now I know why we don't have a dog."

Seth put a plastic grocery bag over his hand and cleaned up the mess.

"So what you're telling me is that I shouldn't try too hard and just let things work out on their own? Maybe you're right... I'll do it your way..."

Seth tied the bag and deposited the "package" in a nearby garbage can.

"You know, that 'beater looks good on you. It's never been a look I could pull off though..."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Kirsten was so lost in her thoughts that she hadn't noticed they were on a different floor of the Holiday Inn. Her mind was on Ryan and Seth and battling with herself over leaving the two of them in Carmichael. Then there was the nagging feeling that Ryan was sicker than he let on...

"Kirsten..."

Sandy's soft voice broke through her chaotic thoughts. He had stepped into the room, holding his hand out to her. She allowed him to lead her inside. Kirsten gasped as she took in her surroundings. Flowers filled the room. Arrangements of colourful blooms had been placed on nearly every horizontal surface.

"Oh, Sandy...."

Sandy held her tight, his head nestled in the soft spot between her shoulder and neck.

"I missed you..."

Their lovemaking was almost desperate, urgent, a culmination of the emotional roller coaster they had ridden for the last 5 weeks. The world seemed to stop as they reconnected. Mind, body and soul entwined in the promise of a new start.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Ryan sat on the floor of the washroom, his breaths coming in harsh gasps. He'd given up trying to vomit. His stomach was begging for release but his gut refused to co-operate. He could feel the sweat running down his back.

He was so cold...

So tired...

He reached up, grabbing the sink with his right hand to pull himself up. His vision greyed.

Bed...

Sleep...

9 steps...

Thirsty...

7 steps...

Water...

3 more steps...

Empty glass...

1 more step...

Drink... later....

Ryan curled over onto his right side, drawing his knees up and cradling his left hand against his chest. Burrowing beneath the blankets, he slipped into the waiting darkness.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Seth let himself into the small apartment. He took the lead off Peanut's collar and watched as the dog lay down on the floor beside Ryan's bed.

"Ryan.... You still awake?"

The lack of movement from under the pile of blankets told him that Seth/Ryan time was not going to happen that night.

"This actually works out well for me..." He mumbled quietly. "I'm going to have time to do all the stuff that I haven't been able to do since you moved here... Like I'm going to start my novel... "Me time..." Maybe I'll learn Chinese... study my Talmud. You know what I mean? Sink my teeth into it..."

Seth went over to the fridge, found some orange juice and poured himself a glass. A quick inspection of the cupboards revealed an unopened bag of pretzels and a box of granola bars. He fished one out, returning the rest to their proper place. Juggling his snack and drink in one hand, Seth moved to the kitchen table, looking through the pile of library books.

"So... The pupil has become the teacher..."

Seth picked up a book and settled onto the air mattress, reading until he fell asleep.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The cold finally gave way to a pleasant warmth. Ryan stopped shivering as he walked on the beach. The light from the sun had turned the usually grey-tinged water to a brilliant blue. Sandy approached, his surf board tucked under his arm.

"Why don't you join me this morning. 6 foot waves...."

Ryan shook his head sadly.

"What if something happens and... and you guys change your mind?"

Sandy smiled at him.

"Like what? You steal a car? You burn down a house? You beat up the captain of the water polo team? Those ships have sailed my friend..."

Kirsten approached, coming out of the water, carrying a briefcase and a roll of blue prints.

"You just have to promise us you'll stay out of trouble. From now on... No more fights..."

"You're still on probation. And child services will be up our ass all the time..." Sandy continued.

"No more trouble. I promise..." Ryan said softly.

Sandy's open hand of welcome morphed into a clenched fist, striking Ryan in the face. He brought his hand up to his rapidly swelling eye.

"Is this your way of thanking us for everything we've done for you?" Sandy raged. "I should have left you in juvie. I bring you into my house... Seth tries to be your friend and you turn around and fuck his girlfriend?"

Ryan took a step backwards.

"I didn't... I wouldn't..."

Seth's fist to his stomach caused him to lose his balance. Ryan fell in the sand. He looked up at Kirsten.

"Look Ryan... I don't mean to play bad cop... It's nothing personal..."

An old beat up Chrysler churned in the desert sand, sending up stinging granules in Ryan's eyes. The car door flings open.

"Unbelievable! What kind of family I got, huh? What the hell did I do to deserve this family? You want to tell me that? You should have left him there." Sandy nodded his head in agreement. "Just like his Dad's doing. Just like his brother's gonna..."

"I can't do this anymore, Ryan... I can't..."

"I want you out of my house..."

"I want you out..."

"But mom... Where am I going to go?" Ryan desperately tried to get his breath. The heat was stifling. Suffocating him.

"Ryan... Just get out..."

Alone... He was alone. He couldn't breathe. His heart was ready to explode. Ryan shattered. Fragments littered the pristine sand.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Seth woke with a start. It took a minute for him to be able to focus. The soft snoring of the dog helped him to regain his bearings.

Ryan's apartment.

Carmichael.

He felt the floor, looking for his watch. 7:15. A quick trip to the washroom and another hour or so of sleep. Then it would be time for a coffee and bagel run. The start of Seth/Ryan time.

Coming out of the washroom, Seth noticed that Ryan hadn't moved since he'd gone to bed. After sharing a room with him for a couple of weeks when Theresa stayed in the pool house, Seth knew that Ryan was anything but a peaceful sleeper. Usually Ryan would fight with the blankets and beat them into submission.

"Ryan... You sleeping?"

Okay, not the brightest question, but something told Seth that everything wasn't right with the world.

"Ryan..."

Seth gently pulled the blankets back.

Oh shit.

"Ryan... C'mon... Please...?"

Ryan lay huddled on the bed, his eyes open, staring into nothingness. His hair and his sweatshirt were soaked in sweat. His breathing shallow. He was fighting for every breath.

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck...

"Ryan... Wake up...."

Seth was now in full blown panic mode. He frantically dug through his duffle bag for his cell phone. He kept it together long enough to make a distressed call to 911

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Kirsten rolled from under Sandy's protective arms and answered the phone after the first ring.

She heard her older son's hysteric voice.

"Mom... It's Ryan..."


	21. Chapter Twenty One

You'd think my butt would be getting smaller because real life keeps biting me in the ass, but it doesn't seem to be working that way. I had rewritten this chapter 4 times and guess what? This is the original draft with only one minor change. Joey 51, this is for you. Thanks for the encouragement.

Josh, pick a disclaimer from a previous chapter. They still apply.

Chapter 21

Seth sat hunched over, his elbows on his knees, his face obscured by his hands. The waiting room of Sutter Memorial Hospital was relatively empty. He had tried pacing, too nervous to sit, but that pissed off the old guy across from him.

The one who sounded like he was going to hoark up a lugie.

Or cough up a lung.

Maybe both.

He knew his parents would be here any minute. His mom had stayed on the phone while he waited for the ambulance. Per her instructions, he had grabbed a wash cloth, wet it with cold water and put it on the back of Ryan's neck. The harsh ragged breathing scared him. There was nothing more he could do to help his brother. Seth put the phone to Ryan's ear. Kirsten spoke to him, telling him to hang on. Everything was going to be alright. She coached Ryan, trying to get his breathing to slow down. Seth could hear her telling Ryan that they would be with him soon. Ryan curled tighter into a fetal position.

"Hurts..." He had whispered to Kirsten. "Hand.... Hurts..."

Seth heard the sirens. He hesitated, not wanting to leave his brother but he needed to flag the EMS down. He answered their questions as best as he could as they examined Ryan and then quickly loaded him into the ambulance. He had climbed in beside Ryan, after informing his mother that they were heading to a hospital in Sacramento.

Oh yeah. This was going to make a great "How I spent my summer vacation" essay for school." He thought. "Holy fuck..." Okay, not holy, but fuck anyway.

"Seth..."

Seth's head snapped up as he heard his mom's voice. His parents looked as disheveled as he did.

Kirsten ran her hand through her son's unruly hair. Normally Seth would have pulled back, claiming she was wrecking his hair.

Today it didn't matter. His hair wasn't working for him anyway.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Kirsten remained on the phone with Ryan as long as she could, encouraging the boy to breathe. His fractured voice telling her his hand hurt... the convulsive effort to draw in enough air... She had never felt so helpless before. Why did she let him stay in Carmichael? What the hell was she thinking?

The frantic drive to the hospital screamed with silent self-recriminations. Kirsten held the steering wheel so tight her knuckles were white. Sandy's foot pressed into the floorboards of the passenger side as if a gas pedal had magically appeared.

He was mentally beating himself up for not dragging Ryan back to Newport once he'd found him.

Progressive parenting...

What a load of crap.

The Cohen family was now officially a dictatorship.

An autocracy.

He and Kirsten would be co-despots.

Kirsten ignored Sandy's quiet admonishes to slow down. Hell, the Range Rover was still on all 4 wheels when she rounded that last corner. The Seth/Ryan world domination just fell victim to a coup.

Tyranny would now reign in her household.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Kirsten barely stopped the vehicle before she threw it into park.

Keys, seatbelt, purse, door.

Sprint to the emergency entrance.

Sandy's quick reflexes kept his head from hitting the dashboard when the Rover suddenly stopped. Definitely not the time to discuss Kirsten's driving/parking abilities.

Seatbelt, door.

½ second behind her.

Kirsten immediately saw Seth, hugging him and running her hands through his hair.

"Are you okay sweetie? Has anyone come out to talk to you?

"No... not yet... Where's Dad?"

Kirsten let go of Seth and looked around, spying her husband at the emergency receiving desk. A few moments later, Sandy joined them.

"No news yet. I let them know that Ryan's family was here. Someone will let us know what's going on..."

Ryan's family. Those 2 words hung in the air. 2 words that now flowed effortlessly.

Ryan's family.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Voices... Loud voices assaulting him. Clipped words. Phrases that made no sense.

Breathe.

He needed to breathe.

Everything hurt. Ryan tried to tell the voices to stop... To leave him alone. The chaotic noise ignored him, silencing him with a plastic muzzle.

A gentle touch on his forehead.

His name being called.

"Ryan... I need you to take deep breaths... Can you do that?"

His eyes searched for the voice. How the fuck was he supposed to answer with a mask over his nose and mouth. Didn't the voice know his hand hurt? Moron. If he could take a deep breath, he would have done so already. He felt his sweatshirt and t-shirt being cut from his body. The cool air felt good. He wanted to go to sleep, get away from the pain, but the voice kept talking to him, asking questions.

Too many questions.

Too many voices.

Too many probing hands.

"Just make the pain stop." His brain screamed. Ryan felt his stomach contract. Hands quickly removed the mask and turned him on his side...

"BP is 70/30, pulse 150, respiration is 45..." Dr Becker quickly shrugged off his vomit covered lab coat, throwing it towards the linen bag in the corner of the examination room.

"Temp is 105... Severe dehydration... What are we looking at Joey?"

The medical resident examining Ryan's hand didn't look up as she continued to inspect the swollen palm.

"Possible sepsis.... Here, take a look..."

Ryan's hand and forearm were now deep shades of black and purple. The stitches strained against the swelling, pus seeped out of the inflamed wound. Dr. Becker palpated the injured hand. Ryan groaned and tried to pull his hand away.

There was no mistaking the urgency in the doctor's voice.

"We need blood, urine, CSF cultures, gasses, CBC, platelet count, clotting... Start a wide bore IV access times 2, lactated ringers, left subclavian, rapid infusion. Call x-ray... We need a chest series. Get a hold of ortho... Are his parents here?"

"On their way... His brother rode in with him. He's in the waiting room..."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The Cohens were lead into another waiting room. Moments later, Dr. Becker joined them.

"Mr. and Mrs., uh... Atwood?"

"Cohen." Sandy corrected. "How's Ryan?"

"We're still running tests, but we suspect Ryan has septecemia. When did he cut his hand?"

"Monday morning... He was using a pry bar. How did this happen? Ryan saw a doctor..."

The doctor shook his head.

"It starts with a small infection. It overwhelms the body's natural defenses and spreads..."

Kirsten paled.

"We thought it was just a cold... We should have..."

"Don't do that to yourself." Dr Becker cut in. "It's not your fault... It happens. It's a rare occurrence and we take every precaution against infection, but despite our best efforts it happens anyway..." He took a deep breath and continued. "We're taking your son to x-ray and then to surgery. We need to remove the necrotic tissue and drain the infection. We'll put a central IV line in his chest and start him on a wide spectrum of antibiotics..."

Dr. Becker's pager went off. Glancing at it, he quickly finished with the Cohens. "Ryan will be taken to ICU once he's out of surgery. I'll have someone from patient services take you there..."

The doctor quickly left the waiting room, leaving the Cohens shell shocked as they tried to process the information they'd been given.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A third waiting room.

Uncounted hours.

Styrofoam cups of lousy coffee sat untouched on a table. Sandy, Kirsten and Seth were all engaged in an internal battle of "would have, should have, could have". Sandy allowed himself to embrace his mistress, too tired to resist, swirling into the remorse she offered him, reliving the loss of control on a night that he continued to carry with him. A night he couldn't forget. A night that had led to this.

"You put him here..." his mistress blamed. "You never believed in him... You never

accepted him... Good intentions..." his guilt purred, "The road to hell is paved with

them... You're no better than any other man who hit him... He trusted you... You

took that from him..."

Guilt coiled a tentacle around his neck, constricting. Sandy welcomed the pain. He deserved nothing less.

"Mr. and Mrs. Cohen?" Dr. Joey Fifton quietly asked as she entered the tiny room. 3 exhausted faces looked up at her. Before they could stand, she sat in a chair opposite the family.

"I'm Dr. Fifton. I assisted in Ryan's surgery. He'll be brought to ICU shortly..."

"Ryan?" Kirsten dug into her last reserves of energy. She was so tired. They all were.

"We're still trying to get him stabilized, but he's holding his own. All the tests confirmed septic shock..."

"What happens now?" Kirsten had to be the strong one, just as Sandy had been for her when her mother was sick. Her strength would see them all through this. She would be the family life line.

"We're working on lowering Ryan's temperature. We've started him on 3 different antibiotics until his blood cultures come back and then we'll change the regimen accordingly. His blood pressure is still very low and it's affecting internal organs..."

"What do you mean it's affecting his internal organs?" Sandy fought the stranglehold of guilt. He had to refocus on his son... The blond one. He reached for Kirsten's hand.

"Ryan's kidneys have shut down. We're supporting their function with dialysis. Once his blood pressure comes up, they should start working again..."

Dr. Fifton drew in a breath before continuing.

"As a precaution, we've put your son on hemodynamic monitoring. That will evaluate the pressures of his heart and lungs. You need to be prepared that respiratory and cardiac failure are a possibility with this type of infection. His chest x-ray showed no signs of pneumonia or pulmonary edema and he's still breathing on his own, so those are all really good signs..."

The Cohens sat quietly, absorbing the information they'd been given.

24 hours ago, Sandy chased after Ryan in the rain and Kirsten spoke to him on the phone.

18 hours ago, they had dinner together.

15 hours ago, Ryan zinged Sandy on his light bulb changing inability as they inflated an air mattress.

Yesterday, the first steps towards reconnecting as a family had been taken.

Time could only move in one direction. "Do overs" weren't allowed.


	22. Chapter Twenty Two

As I proof read this, I realized I swiped a line from "The Heartbreak". You'll recognize it.

I'm sparing the angst and spoiling the "Storymom" because she threatened to hurt me. Ooh, baby...

Chapter Twenty Two.

The whirring and clicking of the dialyzer allowed Sandy to fall into a restless sleep. Ryan had been in the ICU for 2 days, still unconscious. Arrangements had been made to airlift him to HOAG Presbyterian as soon as he was stable.

Even as his body started to relax and his eyes close, Sandy's brain refused to rest. In his nightmares, he saw himself hitting Ryan again and again.

Cornering him in the pool house.

Unleashing his rage.

He watched as Ryan crumpled, broken, whispering "Why...?"

Finding himself in the morgue staring at a battered young man, not much older than a child.

Ryan.

"Why?" The morgue attendant asked.

"Why?" John Rueben asked.

"Why?" Came a soft murmur from a lifeless body...

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sandy woke up with a violent jolt, his heart pounding, trying to draw in a deep breath. Pushing the recliner upright, he looked over at the bed where Ryan lay unmoving except for the slight rise and fall of his chest. His left hand, heavily bandaged, rested on a pillow. IV lines snaked from overhead, one into his right hand, one disappearing under the blanket. Tubes leading to the dialyzer were implanted in Ryan's neck. An oxygen mask covered the lower half of his face. Monitors displayed his respiration rate, blood, heart and lung pressures. Sandy gently ran the back of his fingers down the boy's cheek, reassuring himself that Ryan was still there... still alive.

"Sandy...?"

The weary man looked up. Captain Jim Matthews stood in front of him, in full "God Armour", holding 2 cups of coffee...

"Hey... uh, hi.... How did you.....?"

Sandy struggled to form a coherent sentence. The Salvation Army Chaplain handed him a paper cup and sat down in a chair.

"Roger called me. He met you at Ryan's apartment yesterday..."

Yesterday... Thursday... Sandy and Seth had gone to the apartment to pack up Ryan's things.

Roger... A large blond man asking about Ryan. Sandy vaguely remembered the introduction.

Roger... Ryan's boss.

Roger...Telling him that Ryan is a good kid.

Roger... Offering to take care of the dog... The one sharing Ryan's wardrobe.

Roger... Shaking his hand and keeping Ryan in his prayers.

"Yeah, right... Thanks for coming..."

Captain Matthews slid his jacket off, removed his cap and loosened his tie.

"The full uniform gets me access to the hospital 24/7. It's almost as good as a "Catholic Collar"..." He looked over at the still figure in the bed. "How's Ryan...?"

Sandy wrapped his hands around the coffee cup.

"His doctor tells me he's doing as well as can be expected. His fever's going down, blood pressure is starting to return to normal, his infection is beginning to clear up..."

"But?"

Sandy reached over and pulled Ryan's blanket up a little higher.

"He still hasn't woken up. The doctor's say it's the pain meds and his body is overwhelmed. That it's... normal, but I need to see him awake..."

"How are you holding up?" The chaplain eased open the lid of his coffee.

Sandy shrugged.

"I'm not sure... I just keep thinking that... Oh hell... I don't know what I'm thinking anymore..."

Jim ignored the epithet. Sandy's feelings of guilt radiated from him. Sandy looked at Ryan again. He spoke quietly.

"If I hadn't... If I didn't.... hit him, Ryan wouldn't have left... "This" wouldn't have happened..."

"Sandy, you can't make this about you..."

The lawyer's head moved quickly back to the Captain. Sandy shook his head.

"I'm not... It's not.... The thing with Ryan is that when things have gotten rough, everybody abandons him and that night when I... when uh, I hit him, I did... I did the same thing..."

An alarm on the dialyzer startled the 2 men. A moment later a nurse came in, turned off the machine, removed the lines and capped the dialysis catheter. She checked the levels in Ryan's IVs and discretely emptied the bag connected to the Foley catheter. Straightening out the blankets, she smiled at Sandy.

"Ryan's doing fine, Mr. Cohen... Is there anything I can get for you "

"No... Thank you Martha... Thanks for looking out for Ryan..."

"I'm at the desk if you need anything.

Sandy played with the rim of his coffee cup, unrolling the tight paper lip as if he were looking for a prize winner.

"Sandy, you're not responsible for Ryan being here..."

"Don't say that." He snapped, crushing the empty cup. "I AM responsible... It IS my fault..."

"Stop it! That night may have been the catalyst for Ryan leaving, but it was his choice..."

"What, so now it's his fault...?"

"Sandy, you're not listening." Captain Jim stated in exasperation. "It's not your fault. It's not Ryan's fault. Ryan decided his only option that night was to leave. He made the choice not to call you after day one, day two. For whatever reason, he didn't call. Maybe he was scared. Afraid you were happy he was gone... That you did abandon him. But you didn't. He didn't come back to you, so you went to find him, to bring him back. You left your home, your job. You did the best you could. You found him... You never stopped looking..."

"Ryan wouldn't... He... Tuesday, he barely talked to me. We went out to dinner. My wife, Seth... The four of us. Ryan wouldn't look me in the eye..."

Sandy looked back at Ryan. Jim waited for Sandy to turn around. He spoke softly.

"Did you really expect everything to go back to the way it was before all this? It can never "go back", but you can take another chance. This will either destroy you or you walk through the fire and come out a better person and a stronger family."

"He could have died..." Sandy whispered. "How am I supposed to reconcile that? It all comes back to what I did..."

Jim got up from his chair.

"You are clearly the most stubborn man I've ever met. Where do you think Ryan would be if you and your wife hadn't taken him in, made him a part of your family? Things may have all worked out with his mother. Maybe his mother would be sober, holding down a job. Ryan might have been working towards a college scholarship, but more than likely, he would have ended up in jail or living who knows where..."

"Ryan's always had to take care of himself. Dawn Atwood was incapable of caring for anyone but Dawn Atwood." Sandy said with an edge to his voice.

Captain Jim sat down again and stared straight into Sandy's eyes.

"For the last year he's been with your family, your life has been so much richer. So has his. Not materially. I can tell that "stuff" doesn't hold a lot of importance to you. Family does and if you keep second guessing yourself and looking backwards, you're going to end up walking into a brick wall and I gotta tell you, that's going to leave a mark..."

The room was silent except for the occasional beep from the monitors over Ryan's bed. Sandy drew in a deep breath and slowly exhaled.

"You sure you're not Jewish, 'cause I think you just made me feel guilty for feeling guilty?"

The chaplain smiled.

"My boss is a Jewish carpenter..."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was 10 am, Friday morning when Kirsten and Seth arrived back at the hospital. Kirsten and Sandy engaged in a long embrace while Seth had his 10 minute visit with Ryan. They walked hand in hand down the corridor.

"I've got everything packed up. The hotel staff loved the flowers... Seth will drive you home... You look beat..."

Sandy nodded in agreement.

"I am. It'll be good to get home. It'll be even better when we're all home..."

"I know." Kirsten put her arm around her husband's waist. "Ryan's being airlifted back to Newport at 4. He'll be at Hoag by 4:30. I'll leave as soon as the helicopter does. I'll be at the hospital by 10-10:30 and then you can go home and get some sleep."

"You know he hates heights..."

Kirsten smiled.

"I'm not planning on telling him about his first helicopter ride. I just wish I could go with him... You know, in case he wakes up... In case he needs us..."

"Oh, that boy needs us. Maybe he doesn't realize it, but he needs us as much as we need him and when he wakes up he's going to have no choice but to listen to us..."

Kirsten raised an eyebrow. Sandy kissed her and continued.

"This whole liberal tree hugger thing that you found so irresistible is over. I'm now going to be a fascist potentate... Lord of the Manor...Oh, shit.... I'm going to turn into your father..."


	23. Chapter Twenty Three

Yes! Parenting,Dammit!Parenting! But not in this chapter. I'm trying, I'm trying. I can hear the dialogue being run by the voices in my head, but then the meds kick in and they're quiet and I'm alone once again. This chapter has been brought to you by way too many "Clodhoppers". I can not be held responsible for what I write in a chocolate covered, graham cluster'd state.

Chapter Twenty Three.

The airlift had been uneventful. Sandy arrived a few minutes before the helicopter did and was working on the reams of paperwork when he was informed Ryan was now settled into the ICU. The questions on the admitting forms were identical to the ones at Sutter Memorial.

Both were left with blank spaces.

Childhood illnesses? Allergies? Inoculations?

Things he knew about Seth. Every bump, every scrape, every misadventure on his skateboard... the day he lost his first tooth were all committed to memory. None of that was in Ryan's file.

Did Ryan ever have chicken pox? Seth did, when he was 6. No memories of a blond haired, blue eyed 6 year old and yet it seemed as if Ryan had always been with them.

Sandy looked up and glanced around the room, making sure Captain Matthews wasn't there, reading his mind. This wasn't guilt. Just, well, observations. New memories for the Cohen family were going to start.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Another recliner, another ICU, another night. Kirsten managed to convince Sandy and Seth to go home. She'd take the night shift. She tenderly ran her fingers through Ryan's short hair, startled when he moved his head.

"I know, Seth hates it when I do this to him" she said softly, regaining her composure. "but you're going to have to wake up and tell me to stop."

A muffled groan was the only answer she received. Ryan shifted slightly before his body relaxed again.

"Okay, I'll stop for now..." Kirsten leaned over and kissed Ryan's forehead. She didn't need the monitor to tell her his fever was nearly gone. Smoothing his hair back down, she whispered "Good night" and settled in the chair, holding on to her son's good hand.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Ryan had been treading water for hours. His chest hurt. His arms... his hand... The pain was making it hard to breathe. Splintered sounds filled the black void he was in. He had tried swimming out of the darkness, but he wasn't strong enough. The tide kept pushing him further away until the only thing he could do was try to stay afloat and wait for rescue.

Or until he drowned.

He slowed his arms and leaned back, letting the water hold him up. The sounds became a little clearer.

"_He still hasn't woken up... I need to see him awake..."_

Who was still sleeping? Seth? Maybe I should kick his ass out of bed...

"_If I hadn't... This wouldn't have happened..."_

Seth ... c'mon, your dad needs you to wake up... What the fuck is that buzzing noise? Ryan kicked his legs and moved his arms, trying to escape the sounds that reverberated off the water.

"_He could have died... How am I supposed to reconcile that?"_

Fuck! NO!

"Seth!" Ryan tried to scream as his mouth filled with water. He frantically looked for his brother in the murky ocean.

Seth was gone.

That thought played in Ryan's mind. It didn't matter that he thought he'd heard Seth's voice earlier. It didn't matter that he thought he could hear his brother, urging him to wake up.

Seth was gone.

It couldn't have been Trey.

Trey was gone.

He was alone.

The whispering in his ear was different this time.

Kirsten.

Her fingers playing with his hair.

Dawn used to do that, right before she'd grab a handful and scream at him. Her alcohol soaked breath shouting obscenities, reminding him of his worthlessness.

Pulling away, knowing it was only a matter of time before Kirsten would do the same thing.

They all did the same thing.

They weren't any different.

Ryan felt the air leave his lungs as he sank deeper.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sleep was pretty much a lost cause for Kirsten. Every movement from the bed made her hope Ryan would wake up. The slight twitching of his legs, the way his fingers curled around her hand...

"It's time to wake up, Ryan... You've been sleeping long enough..."

Kirsten repeated those words over and over.

Ryan grasped the hand that reached for him in the dingy fluid. He allowed its strength to pull him back. Sounds grew clearer as he neared the surface.

"_It's time to wake up Ryan... We need you to wake up.... I need you to wake up... We're waiting for you..."_

Kirsten's voice....

Her fingers in his hair... Again.

Playful... Gentle... Soothing. No words designed to hurt him. Only encouragement, urging him to awaken.

He wasn't sleeping.

Seth was...

Kirsten watched the rapid movement of Ryan's eyes under closed lids.

"C'mon sweetheart... You can do it..."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sandy woke early to the sounds of the surf. He lay there listening to the waves. He turned over reaching for Kirsten.

An empty space.

A home incomplete.

A tentative knock.

A door opening.

His son, bearing gifts...

His older son.

Hot coffee...

"Hey dad... you look like you slept well...**Not!** So, I thought you'd recaffeinate and we'd go see Ryan... And Mom... I can't forget the woman who gave birth to me after 37 hours of labour as she's so fond of reminding me. Are you going to be long?

Sandy glared at Seth.

"Yeah... Okay... I'll let you finish... Oh, uh, you have like a gazillion messages from Silvana Weaver... An old girl friend perhaps? Maybe looking to hook up again...?"

"Seth..." Sandy's tone relayed this was not a joking matter.

"Sorry... Shutting up now..." Seth pantomimed locking his lips together and tossed the imaginary key over his shoulder.

"I'll drop you off at the hospital so you can see Ryan... And your mother. I'll be there as soon as I can.

"Dad?"

"Silvana Weaver is from Child Services..."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Ryan waited for the blurry images to come into focus. He blinked several times, trying to clear the haze.

"Ryan...."

Again, with the fingers in his hair.

"Look at me, sweetie... You're okay..."

He concentrated on Kirsten's face as his vision cleared . Her hand moved from his hair to his cheek . He became aware of something covering his nose and mouth. She reached for his hand before he had a chance to remove the obstruction.

The jump in Ryan's heart and respiration rates brought the nurse who had been monitoring the unit from her desk.

"Hey... You're mom told me about your blue eyes... It's nice to see them open..."

Mom.... Dawn?

Not mom.

Kirsten?

Ryan closed his eyes in confusion.

"Ryan... stay with us, okay? You can't go back to sleep yet..." The nurse pressed the intercom.

"Jen... this is Elze. Can you page Dr. Langille for me? Her patient is awake."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sandy pulled up in front of HOAG's main entrance. Seth had been quiet the entire drive. Now he forced himself to ask the question that had been churning in his mind.

"Are they going to take Ryan away from us?" Seth was unable to look at his father, afraid of the answer he might see in his face.

Sandy placed his hand on Seth's chin, forcing the boy to look at him.

"I'm too good of a lawyer for that..."

Sandy waited for Seth to disappear through the sliding glass doors. He needed to be too good of a lawyer. Meeting with Child Services on a Saturday was not a good thing.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Hey..." Sandy was puzzled to find Kirsten and Seth in the hallway outside ICU. "What's going on?"

Kirsten gave her husband a quick hug. Seth told her about the call from Child Services, explaining his father's absence earlier.

"They're moving Ryan from ICU..."

"He's awake?" Sandy's eyes lit up.

She was not about to give him anymore information... Not yet.

She'd be damned if anyone was going to rip apart her family again.

"Sandy. Child Services. What happened?"

He turned, straining to look at his backside.

"Is my ass still there? 'Cause Ryan's social worker took some pretty good chunks out of it..."

"Sandy, don't say "ass"..."

Kirsten waited for her husband to finish. Sandy was waiting for her to ask again. His self-satisfied smug expression told her what she needed to know.

"Everything's okay then?"

Sandy shrugged.

"Ms Weaver's going to be up our a---- uh, backsides and if anything else shows up on her radar... Well, let's just say it's going to take more than my roguish, brilliant and impressive legal skills to fix it."


	24. Chapter Twenty Four

Damn, I thought I'd have this story done by now, but I just couldn't seem to wrap it up. It's my baby and I can't let go. I need to start thinking about another story so I can finish this one. Sounds weird, I know… but that's why you love me. I make the rest of you seem a little less weird.

Josh, if you don't start rolling the angst train soon, we're going to have to take the show away from you. Thanks for the fluff and floss, but we need the angst, dammit! Until I get another raise, the show and characters still belong to you. I would never, _cough _ever, infringe on your right of ownership… Except where I borrowed a few lines from the episodes. SSssshhhh . It'll be our secret.

Chapter Twenty Four

Ryan opened his eyes to a haze of pain and grogginess. Shards of glass twisted in his hand, impaling him. The rustling of a newspaper cut through the fog. He turned towards the noise.

Seth.

Coffee, bagel, Arts and Leisure.

He tried to clear his throat. Seth peered over the top of his paper.

"Not exactly the most auspicious start to Seth/Ryan time, but I'll take it. Here… Hold on a sec…"

Seth found the control for the bed and raised the head of it. He then poured a cup of water from the pitcher on the bedside table and handed it to Ryan. A shaky hand managed to bring the cup to his mouth. Draining the glass, he handed it back to Seth and looked at his surroundings.

Fuck…

He brought his hand up and felt the nasal canula.

"Yeah, you were pretty sick…"

Ryan looked confused. Anger tightened across his chest. He wasn't sick. **They** did this to him.

"Sick? Pool house…. We were… Your dad…" He grew angrier. His thoughts disoriented. "You thought… Me and Summer…"

His brain recollected partial images. Seth. Accusing him. Hitting him. Sandy's words of condemnation. His fist…

"Ryan?"

"Go home Seth… Back to Newport. I don't need you here…"

It was Seth's turn to look confused. He thought things were okay between them. Ryan said they were good. Why was he so angry now?

"We are in Newport. Mom and Dad brought you back when you got sick….."

"**GET OUT!**" Ryan yelled as loud as his raspy voice would allow. They lied . The Cohens lied to him. They said he could stay in Carmichael. Seth watched as his brother pulled the IV from his hand. He frantically pressed the call button.

"Don't do this man… C'mon, calm down…" He tried to prevent Ryan from yanking out the tube in his chest.

"**DON'T TOUCH ME!!!"**

Seth took a step back, his hands raised. A nurse entered the room. Quickly taking in the situation, she motioned for Seth to leave while she focused on calming Ryan down.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Kirsten waited outside Ryan's hospital room. She had given up reading and pacing. She had just stepped out of the shower when Seth called. Running a comb through her wet hair she quickly pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, scribbling a note for Sandy before she left. Arriving at HOAG she met Seth in the hallway. She managed to piece together what had happened. Her older son had inherited his verbosity from his father and nothing was ever quick and to the point. Now Seth, his words gone, looked at her . Silently pleading with her to make everything alright. It was the same desperate look he had after visiting Ryan in juvenile detention last year. The same look when he realized Ryan had left them. The look that believed she could fix anything.

Kirsten convinced Seth to go home. He believed her when she told him everything would be okay. The trust of a child. Despite the fact that he was nearly an adult, Seth still held onto a child-like faith in his parent's ability to right all wrongs. She wondered how young Ryan was when that belief had been shattered.

The door finally opened, Dr. Langille approached Kirsten.

"Ryan's fine. He's still a little upset, but he's calmer. He pulled out his IV, so we re-inserted it. His temperature is back up again, but that's to be expected for the next few days. His hand looks good and we're hoping to stitch it up tomorrow. I gave him his pain meds, so he's probably a little sleepy now." Catching Kirsten's concerned look the doctor added. "Your son's blood pressure is still low, but we'll be taking him off dialysis as soon as his treatment is finished. His kidneys have started working again and I'm positive there's no permanent damage."

Kirsten smiled at the good news. It would make it easier to do what she needed to

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Ryan's eyes remained closed as Kirsten stared involuntarily at the blood filled tubes that ran from the dialyzer to her son's neck. She sat in a chair beside the bed and looked at him. The dark circles encompassing his eyes stood out in contrast to his pale skin. Skin that 5 days ago had a healthy bronze tint to it. She reached over to feel his forehead, her heart sinking as he flinched away from her touch.

When Ryan opened his eyes, there was no mistaking the fury in them. They were definitely speaking to her and she was going to listen.

"Why did you bring me back here…?"

Kirsten resisted reaching out to him. She pictured her hand holding his. The mental image would have to sustain her.

"This is where you belong… Here with us…"

"You just don't get it. I don't want to be with you. I don't belong here. Just leave…." He finished his statement with a whispered, heartbreaking "please". The tubes in his neck made it impossible for him to turn away from Kirsten. He closed his eyes and willed himself not to open them again.

"You're right Ryan. I don't get it. Why are you shutting us out? Don't you know what you mean to us? I wish I could make you understand what your leaving did to this family…"

Ryan's eyes flew open despite his desire to keep them closed. Some of the anger had been replaced by sadness and resignation.

"I left because I didn't have a choice. It's just easier. It's better for all of us if I wasn't around…"

"That doesn't make sense…" Kirsten leaned in closer. "After everything we've been through this past year…"

"Kirsten… Don't… I don't want…"

"No… uh-uh…. You don't get to make the decisions anymore. I don't know what's going on inside your head, but hear me well young man. You are a part of this family and if you won't fight for it, I'll do it for you. Sandy will. Seth will. We won't lose you again…"

Kirsten bent down and kissed Ryan on the forehead. This time he didn't pull away.

"I want you to think about what I said. I'll be back in a minute…"

Kirsten left the room, tears welling up in her eyes. She wasn't going to cry in front of him.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Ryan fought his own tears. Why were the Cohens making this so hard? Why wouldn't they let him go?

He'd get by on his own…

Just like before…

He swiped at his eyes, angry at himself for believing living with the Cohens could work.

Angry at the Cohens for allowing him to believe he had a chance.

All the hurt and disappointment in the people in his life who claimed to love and care for him boiled to the surface. He fucked up. He let down his guard. He wouldn't go through that again. He couldn't…

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Kirsten sat in the waiting room trying to re-gather her thoughts. She left Ryan's room to give him time to digest what she had told him, but she also needed to try and decipher the mixed messages he'd been sending. In Carmichael, Ryan seemed happy to see them. Now he was trying to push them away. The pieces slowly fell into place.

She realized that he **was **pushing them away. He was afraid of being rejected.

Again.

Kirsten hadn't realized until that moment how much his mother's abandonment had affected him. Ryan had been so stoic, almost relieved when Dawn left, but now she knew what she perceived as stoicism was a heartbreak so deep that the only way he'd been able to deal with it was to bury it.

To tell himself it didn't matter.

He didn't matter.

Shit.

She'd been so caught up in trying to assimilate Ryan into their lifestyle, she'd forgotten what he'd lost.

His family.

His life.

Any hopes of a happy ending with his mother died with a sad smile and a wave. Instead of helping him deal with his loss they'd thrown him to the Newport sharks and expected him to swim.

Kirsten stood up, wiping her hands on her jeans. As she steeled herself for the next battle, a gentle hand touched her shoulder and a soft voice whispered "Hey.".

Reinforcements had arrived.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Ryan took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. He tried to force himself to relax, mentally preparing himself for round two with the Cohens.

Control.

The one thing he could usually count on was his self-restraint.

Hard lessons learned in a relatively short life taught him well.

Living with the Cohens made him weak.

He allowed himself to get close to them.

Too close.

Sandy was right about one thing. He couldn't afford to be weak anymore.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sandy wasn't sure what he was going to say to Ryan. He prayed for wisdom and he prayed that Ryan would not only hear the words that would be said but also feel the love behind them. He held out his hand to Kirsten and put his hand on Seth's shoulder.

They could do this.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The dilaudid Dr. Langille gave Ryan had taken the edge off the pain, softening the outer limits of his thoughts.

Focus.

He needed to stay focused.

The inner voice that never shut up.

Speaking.

Reminding him how tired he was of being alone. Tired of always having to be strong, with only himself to rely on. He locked the voice of reason away. He couldn't allow himself to be hurt again. Every heartache and disappointment tearing away another piece of him.

Focus.

Break away.

It had to be easier than dealing with this.

He had to be strong.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sandy noticed how cold and empty Ryan's eyes were. A soft approach was not going to work. Kirsten and Seth stood at one corner of the bed, staying in Ryan's line of vision.

They were a family. All of them.

"You're coming home with us. Kirsten and I are legally responsible for you until you're 18. You're stuck with us as your family until your next birthday. And the day after that and everyday after that one…"

"Forget it… **I** don't want to hear it. **I'm** the one that fucked this up. **I** let down my guard. **I** let myself believe this could work, that **I** had a shot at something good. **You** just did what everyone always does…"

"Ryan…"

"**NO!"** Ryan tried to maintain his control.. "You say I don't talk enough so now I'm doing it… Listening is up to you…" He drew in a shaky breath. "I can't do this anymore… Always waiting for something else to happen… Waiting for you guys to clue in that it's not worth it…. I'm not worth it…"

Sandy got right into Ryan's face.

"You think you can mess up so bad that we'll just give up on you? You can't. You are a part of this family now and you're going to feel the full weight of that…"

"**I don't want it!" **Ryan screamed. **"I don't want you!"**

Sandy concentrated on the agitated boy on the bed. His son. And he was not going to lose him again.

"You're our son by choice. Not obligation. You're not some 'social experiment'. You're a part of us…"

"**You lied to me!"**

It took a moment for Sandy to realize what Ryan meant.

"I had every intention of keeping my promise to let you stay in Carmichael, even though I knew it was wrong…"

"So you waited until I couldn't stop you from taking me and now I'm supposed to trust you?"

Ryan tried to draw a deep breath. He managed a ragged intake of air, followed quickly by another. Kirsten quickly moved to the other side of the bed and sat down. She gently touched his cheek, carefully maneuvering her fingers around the dialysis tubes. She turned his face towards her.

"I'm sorry it's taken 17 years for you to realize that you're important. And not just to us. I'm sorry that your mom couldn't take care of you… That she left you. I wish I could take all the bad stuff away and show you that's not how a family's supposed to work. Sweetie… Sandy and I are not perfect, far from it, but we love you and that's the best we have to offer. Short of chaining you to a wall and telling you every 30 seconds, I don't know how to make you believe that. Whether you decide to leave us or not, you will always be a part of us. Our son. Like Sandy said… Our choice…"

Kirsten ran her fingers down Ryan's cheek.

"Maybe that's been part of the problem… We've never asked what you wanted…"


	25. Epilogue

Hats and horns everyone! I finally finished this thing. The mamba line starts to the left.

Josh, I'm your bitch. Ratticus is drawing up the legal documents that will transfer all ownership of the OC to me. Until you get them signed and notarized, they still belong to you….

Epilogue.

A soft knock brought Ryan out of a world inhabited by robotic drones. Putting down the book, he pushed himself off the bed, padded to the door and opened it. Eggplant coloured hair had given way to a strawberry blond.

"It seems I can't leave you for more than a few hours before you get into trouble. I don't know if I should hug you or kick your ass…"

"Hey…" was all Ryan managed to get out before Mandy pulled him into a hug. After she released him, Ryan sat back down on the bed, partially because he knew he still might get his ass kicked. Mandy took the chair opposite him. The dog clambered onto his lap, wanting some attention.

"C'mon…. Let's see…." Mandy pointed to Ryan's hand.

"I'm okay…. Really…."

"Yeah right…. I've heard that one already… Just before you landed in the hospital for a week, so forgive me if I don't believe you…"

Mandy lifted the corner of the bandage, carefully inspecting the row of stitches and examining the bruising before releasing his hand.

"Don't you look at me in that tone of voice. You scared everyone half to death…"

Seeing the flush creeping up his cheeks, Mandy knew Ryan was feeling properly chastised. His backside would be safe for now.

"Have you taken your pills?" She asked, motioning to the bottles on the bedside table.

"_Could she be anymore maternal? Shit, she gave Kirsten a run for her money." _Ryan wisely kept that thought to himself. Kirsten had been in full blown "mom-mode" as he recovered in the hospital from the septic shock.

"Yeah… uh, no… I don't need them yet. I can take care of myself… I have the "big boy boxers", remember?"

"Touche…" Mandy hesitated before asking her next question. "So… Is everything okay with you and the Cohens…?"

"Yeah…."

"That's it? Yeah…? I need a little more than "yeah". I want full sentences…"

Ryan shifted on the bed. The dog looked up at him and yawned, nudging his hand as it waited impatiently for some more love. He rubbed the dog's head as he tried to come up with an answer.

"It's a little weird. We're uh, I'm uh… trying to talk to them. It's kinda hard. Kirsten's still worried and a little pissed at me… Sandy's feeling guilty and Seth is well, Seth. He talks about everything but what happened…."

"And how do you feel about all of it?" Mandy knew her questions were like picking at a scab but things were still festering inside Ryan. _Scab… Festering…_ _Nice freaking analogy . Anymore infection jokes? Good thing you're using your inside voice." _

Ryan shrugged. He didn't want to answer the questions he'd been avoiding asking himself.

"You have to let them know what's going on. They can't fix it if you don't tell them."

"Some things can't be fixed. Maybe if I leave it alone, it'll go away…"

Mandy leaned in close.

"And look how well that's worked out. I bet the Cohens are walking on egg shells around you and you're avoiding them. Pretending none of this happened is the perfect solution. I wonder why I didn't think of it? That solves everything and everyone is happy. Maybe we can tackle world peace next…."

Ryan looked down, concentrating on scratching the dog's head.

"You can't hide out here forever. The Cohens are your family… Let them in…" Mandy tapped his chest. "Open this up…Talk to Sandy… You're right, some things can't be fixed. Maybe you have to build something new… Build it together…"

Ryan looked up at her and nodded. His brain was now working overtime trying to assimilate Seth's words, Kirsten's words, Mandy's words…. Wanting to believe in Sandy words… Wanting to trust his own feelings.

Mandy quietly closed the door behind her. She looked up to see Sandy walking towards the pool house.

"I think he's ready to talk to you…"

"Thanks for coming to see Ryan… Kirsten and I are… we're…."

"I know…" She said softly. "He's a special kid…. Take good care of him."

Mandy started to walk away when she stopped and withdrew a small package from her purse.

"I almost forgot… Can you give this to Ryan?"

Sandy took the package from her, its significance lost on him until he heard the unmistakable sound of barking… A dog barking…

"You didn't…"

He looked at the package of baby sized "wife beaters". At that moment Ryan opened the door of the pool house, cradling a small chocolate lab puppy. They watched as Mandy disappeared around the corner of the house.

"Can we, uh, talk…?" Ryan asked softly.

Fade to black….


End file.
